Bird in Grand Central Terminal

14 January 2010
Last night upon entering Grand Central Terminal, I noticed a bird, probably a pigeon, flying around the long entry passage. I then composed the following on the train going home.

Bird in Grand Central Terminal

He flutters 'round these teeming halls,
'Mid glaring lights and marble walls,
No exit is there for his plight,
No ledge for rest from weary flight.

What is this cave where, captive held,
A strange location gives no ease
From flapping wing and soaring route
To find an out, in vain pursuit.

Below him, on the trampled floor,
We, likewise, wend at homeward hour,
And blindly follow well worn ways:
Our daily flights, our routine paths.

What cause doth make us both, as one -
The bird above, and man below?
Until each finds, by chance, the way
To freedom from a fruitless flapping.

But lest our lives be futile toil,

Let's blessings find in fertile soil;

So, like the bird, we give our all
To spend our lives as spirit-led.

Not mere subsisting - flesh and blood -
To stumble blind, in endless rut,
But aiming past our earthly cells
To live, in essence, for our goals.

(c) Doug Ewing
13 January 2010