Once I saw them, standing tall
Above me, twins of cement and steel;
I at their feet, an ant doing homage
To what they were, not knowing
What they would become.
Then, mounting a vessel like one
Of my ancestors from distant lands
Who came for the promise
Of freedom to chase dreams,
I saw her raised arm
And turned round—there they were
Towering over the land of the free
And the home of the brave,
Or at least the Wall Street part;
But now resembling towers of biblical proportion.
I have this picture to remind me
Of the folly of wrong-headed dreams.
I have this image, even stronger,
Of two towers crumbling to dust.
The lady never blessed them;
Her gaze was always on the land,
Not on ego’s constructions.
Her lamp ever toward the sea,
Welcoming strangers whose sole desire is liberty.
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