Four faithful seasons equal a year,
one revolution of the heavenly sphere.
We mark our progress by the sun,
one trip around–another year done.
Round ‘n round–the world, she spins…
(as we humans tally our losses and wins)
keeping time to a music her Maker composed,
knowing nothing of all the commotion imposed
as we rush around tending our daily affairs,
stuffing our lives into calendar squares.
One trip around in her heavenly dance
and her tenants are given another chance.