Our city in the spring

Optional tune: Leoni (The God of Abraham Praise)

Our city in the spring
is rich with kōwhai’s gold
and gardens glow with tulips
after winter’s cold.
We rush outside to walk
barefoot on new-mown grass
tūī and sparrows jubilate
as we pass.

The oak tree’s vivid green
the rātā’s crimson red
roses come into leaf in their
neat garden bed.
We ride the treehouse lift
like angels on a cloud
when blossom falls in someone’s hair
we laugh aloud.

Our city in the spring
glistens with rain-washed glass
of windows into busy worlds.
The underpass
echoes our quickening tread;
graffiti’s spray-can pleas
remind us that our homeless are
‘the least of these’.

Our city in the spring
its chaos and its charm
Botanic Gardens, filthy gutters
nail-pierced palm.
The rainbow overhead
reflected on the spire
symbol of justice, welcome, peace:
our heart’s desire.

Our city in the spring
rich with geranium red
bright spear-thrust of kniphofia,
toetoe’s creamy head.
Beloved community
for whom death’s lost its sting
Give thanks for city’s life, of
resurrection sing!

Photographs are from Wikipedia Commons or labelled for non-commercial re-use.

This work by Bronwyn Angela White is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 New Zealand License