New Zealand-inspired writing

The calm and peaceful atmosphere I found in New Zealand made it easy for me to write, something that I've always enjoyed doing but have put off for many years because my life felt too harried and busy. So it was wonderful to be surrounded by nature with my notebook in hand, being able to examine my thoughts and reflect on the world and my experiences therein. Below are two short products of my time spent in parks in Christchurch. 

Not your average university park

I'm sitting on a tree-shaded bench, staring at a barely moving, bog-like stream. The warm sun is streaking through the leaves, but its heat is tempered by a mild spring breeze. Bird song swirls around me like surround sound, and in the not-too-far-off distance, I can hear cars and construction equipment. In front of me are huge globe-like ground plants that look like Albert Einstein's hair with static electricity running through it. On the other side of the stream, bright green dinosaur-sized kale-shaped leaves hang on thick stalks over the water. Fern trees and pale pink rhododendrons round out the menagerie of unfamiliar plants. Apart from the blackbird hopping about inquisitively near the water, I am entirely, gloriously alone.

If I could block out the sounds of the construction crews, it would be easy to forget that I am on a university campus. In fact, I would surely be unaware that I am in the most populous city on New Zealand's south island. Rather, I would be quickly convinced that I had stumbled upon my own peculiar, quasi-tropical island, and I would feel as though the rest of the world never existed. New Zealand does that. It has a way of kindly but dramatically introducing you to the glories of God's earth and persuading you that none of your petty concerns really matter. Even with all the madness in the world today, I find an unflappable sense of calm and contentment here. The world keeps turning.

Roses were out in full bloom. I made a point to stop and smell them frequently. They were divine.

This side of the earth
I'm sitting on a park bench in Christchurch
feeling the sun and the warm spring breeze.
I'm surrounded by birdsong and roses
and the leaves that are dancing on trees.

How incredibly lucky I must be
to experience two springs in one year,
when back in my hometown of Paris
a cold gray winter is near.

But it's not just the seasons that changed
when I came to this side of the earth.
A calm and serenity found me,
helped my soul to a joyous rebirth.

Not so for the people of Paris right now
whose grief and anger are clear
at the act of hatred and violence
that sowed seeds of terror and fear.

I admit I'm relieved to be sitting here,
to feel safe and protected and free,
but I ache for my friends in the city
who don't have such a luxury.

Yet the news shows us flowers and candles,
Parisians lending each other a hand.
Fighting violence with love and compassion
and showing kindness to their fellow man.

Quelle surprise! I quietly think to myself
as Paris is known for being rigid and cold.
When people don't smile or even look at you,
treating strangers with love is quite bold.

But that's the norm in New Zealand it seems.
Here they're generous and friendly and kind.
Being surrounded by nature will do that to you,
clear your spirit, your heart, and your mind,

So with a clean slate I'll go back to Paris,
which has changed in both bad ways and good.
And I'll try to hold onto this calm I've found
when passing soldiers in my neighborhood.

I hope we will help and support one another
to rebuild and find peace once more,
since it's unity that will heal the world's ills:
At last a cause worth fighting for.