Spring in the City

Wild Daisies and Dandelions,

Clovers and Buttercups;

A treat for the eyes,

In the wild grass on the curb;

In the cityscape they grow,

Soon to be gone when the grass is mowed;

The colors of spring yellow and white,

All right here within my sight;

In the concrete jungle,

Flowers are a spectacular vision of color;

They are often called weeds,

As no one planted these seeds;

They remind me its spring,

Warm weather they bring;

Spring finds its way even in a busy place,

Tiny meadow between side walk filling up the space;

Tired eyes gazing on the flowers,

The bloom tinkers deep down with our desires;

Desire to stop and marvel,

Desire to smile as their beauty unravels;

In a small clearing I touch these flowers,

My worries melt, I retire;

Cars rush, sky trains screech,

These flowers arrive nevertheless in peace;

Even with their short life they bring,

Promise of seasons and this one is spring;

Spring’s charm touches us all so deep,

In village, town, or city no matter where you sleep.