Hear the waters. They speak softly as they swell and lap gently against the shore. The universe speaks in whispers. Timeless undulations murmur in the nostalgic language. The past was simpler. The past was sweeter. Reminisce with them.

They bear the magnificent light of dawn. The Hudson is a wavering flag with a luminous, orange hue. The shadowed city is its emblem. Ripples distort the skyline’s silhouette. The sun enflames the sky prophetically. Remember the fires of preparation. Men and their creations immolated for the future. Men and their creations turned back to ashes and dust.

Hear the winds. The soft lament. The universe speaks in whispers. Emotion expressed in a hushed, cold breeze. The icy breath of a tortured soul. A frigid memory breathes down your neck, hovering right in the back of your mind. Shudders of the past.

Hear the city. It roars and bellows. It tells all it’s alive. Men speak in shouts. They let the universe know of their place in it. Hear the throb of the asphalt veins, the breathing of the subterranean lungs. See the central-nervous electric lights. The survivalist instinct is in control. It stands against the currents. It rejects inevitability. The attempt to reign fate has built this city in the sky.

Wind and water erode. Time mirrors nature. Events grow smooth like once jagged rocks. Tears are no longer drawn by treading over them. How long can our human structures resist the currents?

The remains of a drowned wharf decay along the shore. The surface has been carried away by the wind and the river. All that remains are their smooth-tipped posts which stand just more than a foot above the water. Pieces break off and float downstream. It rushes quickly in the currents. Never resting. Always running towards the future. Nature mirrors time. Emotion flees like the present.

A portion of the sky has since been emptied. Two metal arms which embraced these heavens have fallen. The sun rises, and nothing is new under it. The golden eye of God has seen such structures, not of the same material, but of the same intentions. Structures long fallen and forgotten.

The water’s clouded with the ashes turned to ashes, the dust turned to dust. Ghosts sleep in the waters. Spirits wade in the skies and breathe the wind. Nature is haunted. It moans the most human memories which the current has washed away. Tears cease but not the rain. Never the rain.

Hear the universe. It speaks in whispers. Its words paints the past. Remember the towers which looked over the world. The past is in our dreams. The mind’s eye is the greatest canvas.