Every day contains more astonishments–
how can so much exist that I have never seen,

that I’ve passed by so many times but never seen?
So much occurs that I somehow fail to notice–

my head spins with that all that occurs unnoticed–
every walk is a sojourn previously unexperienced.

As if brand new, each walk becomes a new story,
a summons to surprise, a kaleidoscopic offering.

The senses enter a kaleioscope offered freely
to anyone opening the pages of this vast universe.

The universe is vast, immeasurably complex, but
so is the dust mote, the word, the tiny point of light–

light reflected and translated from dust into words–
every day contains more astonishments.

Here’s another building I’ve passed by hundreds of times, shopping also many times in the bookstore that occupies the ground floor over the years. As I was standing on the corner a few weeks ago, a place where my daughters and I often meet on Sunday mornings to get coffee and tea before going to Riverside Park, I noticed as if for the first time the apartment entrance door.

I sure you know what caught my eye–guardians! and it’s also a seemingly elaborate doorway for what looks like a tenement. A little research showed that, like so many buildings in the area, it’s currently owned by Columbia University and serves as residential housing.

There are guardians on the windows above too. And many other lovely details surrounding the entrance as well.

A griffin-like creature lives on the stairs under the columns, and between the columns, at the bottom, stands a cupid-like figure holding an elaborate leaf.

Some of the windows have botanical carvings too. Having the windows on the corner is also a nice feature.

Here’s the bookend–the door that’s across the street and down the block. The Morningside Heights Library was my local library for many years. It’s also housed in a Columbia Building.

I had to photograph the window display as well.

The poem is a duplex which may or may not fit Dora’s prompt at dVerse to talk about liminal spaces. But while you are out walking, you are always in a place of transit. And when looking for doors, you must continually approach the threshold.

Dan Antion hosts many more doors every week at Thursday Doors.

If you want to know more about the bookstore building, the Daytonian has its usual gossip-filled history of 600 West 114th Street, before its current iteration as Columbia housing, here.