Light on Boulevard

Yes there is a light
and it is a ever renewing life, a hope, 
all the world cries it. 

Yes there is a light
in the green shoot
bursting through deadened concrete.

Yes there is a light
in the golden autumn leaves
shrivelling, falling
then emerging new green brightness.

Yes there is a light
in the bold and bright colours,
of the glass smashed underpass.

Yes there is a light
in the flowers given by neighbours
to someone in mourning.

Yes there is a light
in the entwined woven threads
of women’s safe belonging.

Yes there is a light, and it is on Boulevard,
and it is a ever renewing life, a hope,
and all the world cries it.