High summer on the lawn,
laying back and looking up –
the Moon staring down at me,
firing this boy’s dreams.
Somewhere up there two men in a box,
another left circling around, unseen.
The year 69, I had no inkling then
of the Cancer glyph,
the crab and his claws as the Sun’s tropic
A Saturn five had taken them,
pushing limits far beyond the jewel world,
while five is Leo, the Sun god Apollo,
who would return to earth in glory.
Eleven is Aquarius, the new age, some said,
and the Eagle is Scorpio, the Phoenix
who rises, fed on the ash of his own demise.
And on that very day,
as Jupiter and Uranus conjoined in the Balance,
the whole world turned on its head,
a revolution in the mind
encapsulating the cause.
copyright Leofwine Tanner 2019