Common Ground

Belfast · Single

The rain came down on the Springfield Road
Like it always had before
Kids were building bridges in a video game world
While the wind rattled an old steel door
A man in a hi-vis jacket pointed through the fence
Said, “They’re putting something new right here”
Where the weeds grow tall through the concrete cracks
And the ghosts still whisper in your ear
But nobody was talking politics tonight
Just football, work, and the price of bread
A woman laughed by the bus stop light
And a boy rode circles on his bike instead
And maybe that’s how the city turns
Not with a speech or a marching band
But one slow step where the pavement burns
Into a little patch of common ground
There’s an old church standing by the road
Its bell don’t ring the way it used to do
But the doors stay open on a Saturday morning
For anyone passing through
A gardener waters flowers by the wall
That once kept neighbours far apart
Now the roses climb where the shadows fall
Like they’re trying to soften somebody’s heart
And the river keeps moving through the city
Past the cranes and the shopping lights
Past memories people carry quietly
Like photographs folded out of sight
And maybe that’s how the city turns
Not with a flag held high and proud
But in the spaces left between the words
Where strangers become part of the crowd
The hills are watching over Belfast still
The same as they did before our time
They’ve seen the anger, they’ve seen the hope
They’ve heard every reason and every rhyme
Now the evening settles on the rooftops
And the street lamps paint the wet roads gold
Somebody’s child is heading home for supper
Somebody’s story is being told
And maybe that’s how the city heals
Not by forgetting what came before
But by finding room for another voice
Walking through an open door
The rain came down on the Springfield Road
Like it always had before
And somewhere beyond the walls and fences
People were building something more.

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