Manhattan

The fragrant flowers beneath the windowsills,

the warm feel of the walls of Brownstone homes, 

the stream of fine looking, 

middle-aged professionals,

in fine threads 

and expressions of overt self awareness, 

in brand name loafers 

and 4-inch high heals,

the exaggerated echo of ambient chatter, 

the forbidding gaze of broken men and women, 

the chaotic flux of yellow cabs, 

the on-and-off switching of street lights and uniformed sirens,

the involuntary mingling of fast-moving throngs along the streets and avenues, 

the clamor of flashy ads, 

splashing off giant screens at every intersection, 

past piles of neatly tied trash bags,

at the feet of towering edifices, 

with swaying shaddows of a new gilded age, 

the lush, manicured park 

at the center of the aqua-walled city, 

the enchanting little zoo 

at the edge of the park, 

across from opulent townhouses, each worth a small nation's treasure,

the titanium dollar street, emblazoned with equity speculators, 

futures traders, and pinstriped suits, 

hedging against the sardines 

in euphoric greed,

the vast museums with exhibits 

featuring fossils of prehistoric creatures, 

exhibits of paintings by Monet,

Rembrandt, von Gogh, Matisse, and Degas, 

and even exibits of stunning gowns, 

by Versace, Wang, Lagerfeld, and Saint Laurent,

the restaurants offering food for every tongue, 

with pungent aromas 

from every corner of the planet, 

the hot dog and kebab stands, 

the colorful ice-cream trucks, 

the oversized concrete playgrounds

in unexpected places, 

the vanishing newsstands, 

The murmurs of lovers 

at cafés and in horse-drawn carriages, 

that is you, Manhattan, 

that is you, beloved Manhattan. 

Dr. Azzam Elayan

July 9, 2013