BRYANT PARK

Child newborn,
Welcome to this place,
Of paths well worn,
By a perpetual pace.
One grain of sand
On a beach of endless space.

Remember one measure,
Keep it quite plain;
All joy is a pleasure,
And sorrow is pain.

See the street traffic.
Hear the motor sound.
See the faces tragic,
Walking all around.
Try to do what pleases you,
Despite the concrete ground.

Sleep and eat, then repeat,
Live long while you grow;
In search of a mind’s retreat,
In search of something to know.