Two thousand one, nine eleven
Five thousand plus arrive in heaven
As they pass through the gate,
Thousands more appear in wait
A tall bearded man
wearing a stovepipe hat
steps forward and greets them,
then says, "Lets chat".
They settle down in seats of clouds
A man named Martin shouts out proud
"I have a dream!" and once he did
The Newcomer says, "Your dream still lives."
Groups of soldiers in blue and gray
Others in khaki, and green then say
"We're from Bull Run, Yorktown, the Maine"
The Newcomer says, "You died not in vain."
From a man on sticks one could hear
"The only thing we have to fear."
The Newcomer says, "We know the rest,
trust us sir, we've passed that test."
A man with a twang from New England shores
Then proclaimed in a voice they had all heard before
"Courage like yours does not hide in caves
You can't bury freedom, in a grave,"
A silence fell within the mist
Somehow the Newcomer knew that this
Meant time had come for her to say
What was in the hearts of the five thousand plus that day
"In the land of the living, we wrote reports,
Watched our children play in sports
Worked our gardens, sang our songs
Went to church and clipped coupons
We smiled, we laughed,
we cried, we fought
Unlike you, great we're not"
The tall man in the stovepipe hat
Stood and said, "Don't talk like that!
Look at your country, look and see
You died for freedom, just like me"
Then, before them all appeared a scene
Of ruined streets and twisted beams
Death, destruction, rubble and dust
And people working just 'cause they must
Knee deep in hell,
But not alone
"Look! Blackman, whiteman, brownman, and yellow
Side by side helping their fellow!"
So said Martin, as he watched the scene
"Even from nightmares, can be born a dream."
Down below three firemen raised
The colors high into ashen haze
The soldiers above had seen it before
On Iwo Jima back in '44
The man on sticks studied everything closely
Then shared his perceptions on what he saw mostly
"I see pain, I see tears,
I see sorrow -- but I don't see fear."
"You left behind husbands and wives
daughters and sons and so many lives
Are suffering now because of this wrong
But look very closely. You're not really gone.
All of those people, even those who've never met
All of their lives, they'll never forget
Don't you see what has happened?
Don't you see what you've done?
You've brought them together, together as one.
The man named Abe stood and said
"Welcome my friends," and from there he led,
five thousand Newcomers, all heroes to heaven
On this day of our Lord, two thousand one nine eleven.
In his own words...
I wrote thisthree days after the attack in response to my daughter's question regarding what, if any, value was derived from the death of all those people. I have had some folks with degrees in English, published writers and others write back with compliments and editorial suggestions. All are welcome and appreciated. I didn't write it for any reason other than to express my own personal feelings and I posted it in hopes that children (especially those most directly effected) would get some sense that ALL life has value and ALL life contributes to the continuation of the good.
by Paul Spreadbury,
York Beach, Maine
Too much chrome to polish, too little time!!
Have trailer, will travel!! Not all Wingers are old Wingers.
PGR member. Riding in memory of my father, Clyde D. Ward, USN. WWII
Myself, USN, Vietnam Vet. 68-72, 74-76
VF-194 aboard the USS. Oriskany
USS Saratoga, ships company
Bagmaster, our former forum Toolmaster and friend, is no longer with us. He passed away in February 2012.
The roads and byways, no matter how beautiful and exhilarating, are a lonelier place now. RIP Bagmaster (Baggy).