Sunday, September 11, 2016


Songs of Sorrow,
      Songs of Hope

       Seven for Nine Eleven


September morning---
 Clear and calm …
 Streaking, screaming jets
 Collide with the crisp serenity,
 Crushing the dreams of thousands
 Of world citizens
 In one prolonged
 Agonizing instant---
 Altering perceptions and events
 In a tangle
 Of terror,
 Toppling towers,
 And barbaric entombment


 All the fallen heroes
 Rushing to rescue
 Innocent victims of violence…
 Trapped between their selfless bravery
 And fanatic hatred
 Focused on annihilation
 Of all hope and happiness…

Gone in the momentous collapse
 Of monuments and unsung miracles…
 All the fallen heroes,
 Mourned and remembered,


Bewildered with rage 
 And weeping,
 We gather and huddle
 In streets and parks,
 Embracing strangers, 
 Posting our private grief
 On walls and chain-link fences…
 Coming together in the spirit 
 Of ourselves
 As though this magnitude
 Of love
 Could stifle and smother
 The animosity,
 The atrocity,
 That has befallen us.


Weep, world…
 Many lost their lives today.

Weep for clashing cultures
 Exploding on the world.
 The eleventh of September
 Collides with human destiny…
 Ending all innocence
 And immunity.

Weep, world,
 Weep in sorrow…
 Many lost their lives today…
 Yet, beneath the smoldering debris,
 A new spirit struggles to erupt.

 A fragile experiment,
 Begun in a time
 When humanity defied tyranny
 And sought a sanctuary
 Of liberty…

Once begun,
 There was no assurance
 It would survive…

Even now
 Tyrants and barbarians
 Threaten the frangible frame of freedom.


 We will not die---
 There is a gentle presence
 That gathers strength 
 In our awareness---
 Through all the adversity,
 Through all the tears,
 Through all that perished
 On that frail September day,
 We find the substance
 Of ourselves
 Embedded in all who have gone
 Before us…
 Grasping intangible threads 
 Binding us...  

 Celebrate the loved ones
 We have lost…
 Celebrate the right to sing
 Of one another…
 Cherish the links
 Connecting us…
 To dare to dream,
 To seek to hope,
 To make festivals
 Of images and sounds
 Leaping like magic
 Across an electric consciousness
 Like shooting stars
 Across the cosmos 
 Confronting chaos 
 With the simple song of ourselves.

© Copyright John Gilbert, September 12, 2011, 

1 comment:

Rick Hart said...

Thanks for posting these very profound sentiments.