My city has a pulse.
It lives and thrives on passion
Expressed through perspectives of people
Whose pride resides in the creativity
That permeates the previously parched pavement of potential.
My city has a soul.
It captivates the curious
On the corners where the coffeeshops
And cobblestone streets meet
The audible imprints of independents
Sewing musical flavors into the atmosphere
Saturating the canvas of human experience
With the colors of the Creator.
My city lives.
It inhales the spirit of things spoken to be
And exhales the fruition of the visions we see.
This is not my city.
This is our city.