There's iron in the irony
There's doom inside this daydream:
Living inside this cityscape
birthed by soaring spires
are a thousand thunderous aspirations.

Sky-tipped & glorious
the rising sheets of metal
& glass reflect
the great human dance:

hurried business strides turn into rainy-day dashes--
swirling jackets, windblown hats
fade into
the slower
springtime march,
the stately lover's waltz.

Children are told:
"Don't lose the rhythm
of the ancient dance!
or
our towers will fall!
our castles will crumble!"
Meanwhile our enemies
come home to children
whose hands are rubble-bloody
whose minds cannot picture
towers or castles,
only targets and disasters.

The ancient dance,
the tango of Good & Evil--
inexplicable
but humanly inevitable.