PAD - Day 12 - The City That Never Sleeps

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The City That Never Sleeps

Sometimes in the depth of night,

I swear on all sacred, an apparition

soars in the lyric limbo between all

that was and what is still to be - -

There -  in shining sinuous streets

whispers a chant, a magic moment

where the spirit of nigh three thousand

gather, and catch one by the wrists - -

To bear witness

as, for an instant the gaudy, garish,

ghoulish tumble of shredded papers

spins as inchoate confetti of that bright

September morn whirling the heinous -

mystic maelstrom, each to melt into slivers

of shimmer, delicate and irrevocably shattered

as a single porcelain angel falling farther than

one hundred floors – from sparkling shimmers

rises a drawn breath exhaled in tinkled peals as

pure as a newborn infant coalesced into a collective

chorus distilled to a single singing soul –

as this apparition rises in celestial song to illuminate

the night – of the city that never sleeps–floating above

in opened armed embrace - before with a smoky sigh

filamented tender arms reach deeply into the moonlit sky

and

vanish