For some reason the poem strongly reminded me of a Moody Blues poem, just completely different words.

“When the white eagle of the North is flying overhead
The browns, reds and golds of autumn lie in the gutter, dead.
Remember then, that summer birds with wings of fire flaying
Came to witness spring’s new hope, born of leaves decaying.
Just as new life will come from death, love will come at leisure.
Love of love, love of life and giving without measure
Gives in return a wondrous yearn of a promise almost seen.
Live hand-in-hand and together we’ll stand on the threshold of a dream.”

Is this the work of one of the team members… Tim Brown? perhaps or was it sourced from colonial Australian poetry. I am intrigued and trying to find the answer. Any one with any clues? When I first heard it I thought it could have been a pastiche of existing poetry, but on second listen, it just flows too well. hmm