She called...
Blacks, Whites...wait
African Americans and Caucasians, Asians, excuse me.
Vietnamese, Philippines, Koreans and Jamaicans or
Haitians, waitin' Hispanics y'all.
Please be patient
Mexican, Puerto Ricans, Venezuelan, Cuban, Dominican, Panamanian Democrats
I beg your pardon, you partied with the late, great Reagan?
Republican, Independent, Christian, Catholic,
Methodist, Baptist, 7th Day Adventist, 5 Percenters,
Hindu, Sunni Muslim, Brothers and Sisters who never seen the New York city
skyline when the twin towers still existed.
But still She called.
From the bowels of Ground Zero she sent this 911 distress signal.
Because She was in desperate need of a hero,
and didn't have time to decipher what to call 'em,
so she called 'em all Her children.
The children of the stars and bars who needed to know nothing more than the fact that she called.
The fact that someone attempted to harm us
this daughter who covered us all with her loving arms.
And now these arms are sprawled across New York City streets.
A smoke filled lung, a silt covered faced,
and a solitary tear poured out of her cheek.
Her singed garments carpets Pennsylvania Avenue and the Pentagon was under her feet.
As she began to talk, she began to cough up small particles of debris
and said, "I am America, and I'm calling on the land of the free."
So they answered.
All personal differences set to the side
because right now there was no time to decide which state building the Confederate flag should fly over,
and which trimester the embryo is considered alive,
or on our monetary units, and which God we should confide.
You see, someone attempted to choke the voice
of the one who gave us the right for choice,
and now she was callin.
And somebody had to answer.
Who was going to answer?
So they did.
Stern faces and chiseled chins.
Devoted women and disciplined men,
who rose from the ashes like a phoenix
and said "don't worry, we'll stand in your defense."
They tightened up their bootlaces
and said goodbye to loved ones, family and friends.
They tried to bombard them with the "hold on", "wait-a-minute's", and "what-if's".
And "Daddy, where you goin?".
And, "Mommy, why you leavin?".
And they merely kissed them on their foreheads and said "Don't worry, I have my reasons.
You see, to this country I pledged my allegiance
to defend it against all enemies foreign and domestic.
So as long as I'm breathin, I'll run though hell-fire,
meet the enemy on the front lines,
look him directly in his face,
stare directly in his eyes and scream,
"I AM AMERICA! WE WILL NOT BE TERRORIZED!
WE WILL NOT BE TERRORIZED!
I REFUSE TO BE AFRAID!
I'LL FIGHT YOU ANY COUNTRY, ANY CONTINENT, ANY TERRAIN.
I'LL FIGHT TO MY LAST BREATH!"
And if by chance death is my fate,
pin my medals upon my chest,
and throw Old Glory on my grave.
But, don't y'all cry for me.
You see, my Father's prepared a place.
I'll be a part of his Holy army standing a watch at the Pearly Gates.
Because freedom was never free.
POW's, and fallen soldiers
all paid the ultimate sacrifice
along side veterans who put themselves in harms way.
Risking their lives and limbs just to hold up democracy's weight,
but still standing on them broken appendages anytime the National Anthem was played.
You see, these were the brave warriors that gave me the right
to say that I'm Black. Or white.
Or
African American or Caucasian,
I'm Asian, excuse me.
I'm Vietnamese, Philippine, Korean, or Jamaican.
I'm Haitian, Hispanic
Y'all, Please be patient.
I'm Mexican, Puerto Rican, Venezuelan, Cuban,
Dominican, Panamanian, Democrat
I beg your pardon, you see I partied with the late, great Reagan.
I'm Republican, Independent, Christian, Catholic,
Methodist, Baptist, 7th Day Adventist, 5 Percenters,
Hindu, Sunni Muslim,
Brothers and Sisters We're just Americans.
So with that I say
"Thank You" to the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines,
for preserving my rights
to live and die for this life
and paying the ultimate price for me to be...FREE!
September 11, 2001: The Day Our World Changed
Planes crashing into buildings
in pictures from a disaster film
before our actual eyes
On the small screen filling our homes
with scenes of terror so horrifying
they must be simulated
Unable to comprehend
how anyone willingly could commit
these brutal acts of terror
Yet these images of harsh reality
become etched into our memory
As we watch the destruction
of a way of life
The laughter of my young daughter
pulls me from the barrage of images
and back into the reality of our day
Too young to know what has happened
yet sensing the anxiety in the air
Focusing on the exploration of her world
with a simple request of "Out"
Her small hand placed trustingly in mine
to guide her on way
A little voice of hope for the future
A nation, a world in tears
united in grief and loss
A tragedy so large
the loss so pervasive
the depth of emotions so great
no words can truly convey the mood
The sacrifice of so many lives
from so many countries
As we struggle to make some sense of the senseless
and look to answer the question
"Why?"
Yet many others saved
by acts of kindness from strangers
and in the mission thwarted
by last heroic acts of sacrifice and bravery
The eagle like the mighty phoenix
emerges from the ashes
bruised, but not beaten
stronger than ever
Out of the rubble of destruction
Seeds of hope
Stories of courage
Heroes emerge
Our country unites
To learn and to change
so that it never happens again
To keep the memories of the events and the people alive
but to also keep living
If not for ourselves
for our way of life
for our freedom
for our children
© 2001 Kirsti A. Dyer, MD, MS
OMEGA
Letters overflowing inboxes
Busy conversations
Coffee perking
Elevators climbing
Plants watered
It is the day beginning
on Tuesday
the last Tuesday
Empty tables
at Windows on the World
waiting for
glittering chats and
gleaming silver
The world waiting for trade
for the exchange of
who owns what and where
and for who will win and who will
lose
And the morning drifted by
as mornings do
with nothing outstanding
nothing understanding
that this is all
the mornings there would be
A shudder, a powerful pull
a push, a gust, a split
an opening into sky and flame
and smoke beyond all night
and dust beyond all deserts
and a clutching of the building
on itself
as it tried within its bones
to stand
And its heart was melting
and souls were flying
And a sound
of twin pain
was to its side
another scrape of
metal on metal and glass
on glass and the whoosh
of air and fuel and flame
and the pall of smoke
that ate the breath
of everything that
moved
Side by side
they stood
two terrible wounds
pulling them apart
the steel without gleaming
the steel within melting
their people
all their dear and lovely people
that they knew
that they harbored
every day every Tuesday
every floor, every suite
all of this falling slowly
surely down in a
measured sure death
and suddenly one
without the ability to stand
longer
fell
and in its falling
lasted lifetimes
centuries of hopes
sighs dreams
falling with pictures
with eyeglasses
with outboxes whose papers
flew
far beyond their
intended destinations
into forever
And the other
the one who waited
still stood for awhile
and at last let go
nothing to do but fall
nowhere to go but where
the other had gone
no reason to stay
the lonely sky without its twin
too much
too long
too alone
And as it fell
and all within
part of its terrible death
there were years in its falling
there were centuries of conversations
and eons of memories
and civilizations of laughter and tears
and birthdays and life celebrations
and first days and last days
and the middle that we know
as life
and as it fell on itself
bone by bone
of its very existence
becoming dust
the sky wrenched and twisted
and pulled away
from the sound
the awful
tearing
sound
and tried to withdraw
from the smoke
that was the life breath
of the building
and of its children
those it harbored
every day
and the silence became unattainable
any more
for those watching
hearing
mouths open
the silence only belonged
to those
within
whose last desperate day
was that day
as they left
the highest place
they had ever been
to go to
the truly
highest place
angels
and wings of angels
and feathers
going up
into
the clear blue sky
far above the smoke
far beyond the
terrible groan and roar
far into where we believe heaven is,
far into where we believe
all hands were awake, alert
and pulling them upwards
fast
out of the pain
out of the grief
and into the music
of peace.
This poem was written on September
16, 2001 by Susan Godman Rager
in honor and in memory of those lost 11 September 2001.
© 2001 SG Rager sgrager@ragerlaw.com
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