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.