On the Day I Gained Certainty That I was a Spirit by Louis Alan Swartz

On the day I gained certainty that I was
A spirit, the subway went up
Lexington Avenue as it had always done.
Down on Seventh Avenue the
Men still pushed their carts
With bolts of cotton and silk.
The cross town bus still did its
Route on 42nd Street.
The mannequins
In Macy’s window nearby stood still
Stiffly still as they had always done.
The train to Boston pulled out
Of Grand Central Station. Several
Couples fell in love that day in Central Park.
A twelve year old boy found out
About Walk Whitman in the main
Public Library at Fifth Avenue
And 42nd Street.
Big ocean liners were docked
In the harbour on the West Side.
A young man sweetly played
His violin on the corner of
42nd and 8th Avenue.
The Staten Island ferry moved
Away from the dock. The diamond
Dealer intently eyed a gem
Through his glass on 47th Street
As he had done for generations.
Uptown on West 86th Street
Near Broadway a sweet old
Woman sighed deeply
And smiled and breathed
Her last breath. A boy child
Was born in Brooklyn.
The taxi drivers weaved
Between the lanes.
Somebody ordered a large
Coffee regular, hold the sugar.
Three teenage boys sang
A cappella at the corner
Of Willis Avenue and
143rd Street in the South
Bronx. A crowd gathered,
They were magnificent.
In my world all
Was still. Everything.
Around me was pervaded
With a calm I do not
Remember ever having experienced.
I felt a love for everyone I
Saw no matter who they were.
I was astounded by
Beauty all around me
Though it was the same
32nd Street, the same
Broadway on which I had
Always walked.
I felt a kindness,
A compassion,
A tolerance, an openness,
A hope, a confidence unlike
Anything I had ever known.
And I knew that everything
Was going to be alright, that
All would be well, that
I was ok and that I
Would continue to be ok.
On the day that I gained
Certainty that I was
A Spirit.