A Poem for New Zealand

I've been working on this poem off and on, adding here and there, since I've been here.

New Zealand is a place where the trees grow taller than buildings;

where the hills are freckled with sheep.

Never have I seen such natural beauty,

so many untampered landscapes.

Green cascading over the land

Where God is the Supreme Architect.

The mountains and landscapes are His arrows for us,

pointing our eyes and hearts to look above.

Surely people came to know color in this place;

where brightness triumphs over the gray.

Before New Zealand, perception was colored by pastels

but exposure has heightened the color's scales.

The scopes of the sea take my breath away,

with water so blue none can imitate.

How is one expected to leave this place 

where the rocks collide with the waves?

Constantly bathing the cliffs with the sea's spray,

singing the hymn of Eden's days.

The wind informs me of the power of this place; 

How it's beauty grips your heart and compels you to stay.

Privileged are you who call this place home 

and privileged am I to this place have been shown.