A Labyrinthian City

Winds of man-made canyons

Buffet a sickly fly

Grounded by injuries

Making each step painful

Along a high and narrow parapet

Past a long row of floor-to-ceiling windows

As it grabs fleeting glances of the jagged skyline.

A maze of steel, stone, and glass rise,

Where ambition and shadows intertwine.

Such is the city of lights 24/7,

Where streets pulse with life

Like a river of faces floating,

Eyes habitually looking up,

Dreaming.

As the sun sets, splitting light between buildings

Both the fly and pedestrians below

Remain belligerent against the gusts of wind

Skitter across the Hudson River

Join the chaotic movement of air

That remains indifferent.

Each wind-whipped  face a story

Lost and found in the urban tide,

Where neon lights flicker

As guides for the wanderers

Often seeking alleys and avenues

Short on animated life,

Where secrets mumble and clash,

Their words floating upwards

Where skyscrapers loom

As the guardians of coveted aspirations,

Casting their shadiness over the restless souls below.

In the heart of the labyrinth

The city’s symphony of dissonant horns blaring

Voices merging as jack hammers open more space

To this cacophony of existence.

Yet…

In the midst of the frenzy,

Moments of stillness argues its purpose.

Upon a park bench

The rare quiet corner where time pauses,

Just for a breath for a city that breathes

As a living entity.

Its pulse felt in every step,

Every heartbeat of those who roam

Battling the wind eager to sweep all in its way

Off their feet

Even as the hapless fly

Crawls wingless

Dangerously close to the edge of its windowless prison.

In this labyrinth,

One is bound to find themselves,

Whether lost or found,

In the endless hopscotch movement

Of the labyrinthian city of New York.