Each day in lights and city streets,
Construction sounds that crack the air;
Or horns that break in crazy beats
At roadblocks halting everywhere.
I seek somewhere a patch of grass
Beyond a thousand concrete bridges,
A place where I shall pass
A skyline filled with mountain ridges.
But now the air is lit with steam,
The smoky mist pours in and out—
My soul’s a silent, washed-out dream,
A city asleep and filled with doubt.
Living in the splendor of this city,
With all the wealth on short display;
Spring is blooming now, but some will pity
Summer’s heat and winter’s gray.
Leaves will fade in time to yellow from green,
Dried up too soon, and blown away,
Until the Arctic chill comes down unseen
In a season with its own decay.
Outside, in light, I feel the sun’s warm love,
And in the dark, a moonlit sigh;
Memories once buried, now brought above,
Like birds that fly the midnight sky.