As I sit on the stoop and watch the evening arrive,
My thoughts wander back to another place and time.
When a candle in a window was a sign of hope and cheer,
Not a symbol to remind me of a million falling tears.
I watch the news reports, I hear the newsman speak,
I see the brave ones search thru the piles of litter.
I feel my heart explode each time I see the faces of the souls,
Who may never find the ones they love,
And I wonder how can they not be bitter.
I picture dinner tables at family homes,
With empty chairs, and plates and glasses.
I cannot help but feel the empty longing,
Of those precious missing masses.
I have cried in sympathy, I have screamed in pain,
But the empty feelings linger.
What the madman has wrought can never be explained,
By the useless pointing of a finger.
I know not what is the right course of action,
To repay those who kill in hate.
If God does exist maybe She will answer,
And save the rest of us from that fate.
I think of my family and the petty things that have kept us apart,
And I cannot help but be bemused.
If each of us knew we had but moments to live,
How would that time be used?
Would we reach out in love and forgivness,
Desperatly calling to heal old wounds?
For the true meaning of life must be to love,
For if not then just what is the use?
Dedicated to the families and friends of those souls who finished their life courses on September 11, 2001 due to a tragic act of hate.
Jon