Riding on the commuter train
with my beloved,
excited about the day ahead
in New York City.
similing at the view of the Hudson River
daydream interrupted:
"There's been a terrorist attack
on the World Trade Center!"
a voice over the intercom.
I think, "Oh, it's some crazy man
waving a gun.
Mind numbing news begins to sink in;
"The second tower has just been hit.
There are two more missing planes.
This train will not begoing to the city.
Passengers, please get off the train."
Standing on the patform in shock.
What do we do now?
Away from home, lost control
Reality surreal.
Trying to get home
thwarted at every attempt
by rumors of bombs
at Grand Central,
highjackers at La Guardia.
It was four days before
we began to journey west
safely enclosed on a Grehound Bus
going across the country
back to Washington State
This was not how I had planned
to tour the United States
but I was thankful to be heading home,
by the grace of God.
Three days of sitting on those narrow seats
sleeping in cramped positions,
anxious for the time to pass,
looking forward to seeing my kids;
wondering what was going to happen
sharing with fellow passengers
a little slice of history.
Mixed emotions swirl within
Admiration for the courageous
Grief for lost lives
Anger
at the ignorance of hatred
Sadness unbearable
knowing that I had escaped the city
but not the war.
My personal losses are small
but I share the burden
feel the shock and pain
weep with the whole
of the nation.
Faith tried,
Belief tested
beyond what I thought possible.
Prayer is a way of life now
not just a sometimes thing
reaching deeply inside
to understand
t love more strongly
to be more kind
to live the life
that God has given
to be thankful for America
Freedom is precious.
with my beloved,
excited about the day ahead
in New York City.
similing at the view of the Hudson River
daydream interrupted:
"There's been a terrorist attack
on the World Trade Center!"
a voice over the intercom.
I think, "Oh, it's some crazy man
waving a gun.
Mind numbing news begins to sink in;
"The second tower has just been hit.
There are two more missing planes.
This train will not begoing to the city.
Passengers, please get off the train."
Standing on the patform in shock.
What do we do now?
Away from home, lost control
Reality surreal.
Trying to get home
thwarted at every attempt
by rumors of bombs
at Grand Central,
highjackers at La Guardia.
It was four days before
we began to journey west
safely enclosed on a Grehound Bus
going across the country
back to Washington State
This was not how I had planned
to tour the United States
but I was thankful to be heading home,
by the grace of God.
Three days of sitting on those narrow seats
sleeping in cramped positions,
anxious for the time to pass,
looking forward to seeing my kids;
wondering what was going to happen
sharing with fellow passengers
a little slice of history.
Mixed emotions swirl within
Admiration for the courageous
Grief for lost lives
Anger
at the ignorance of hatred
Sadness unbearable
knowing that I had escaped the city
but not the war.
My personal losses are small
but I share the burden
feel the shock and pain
weep with the whole
of the nation.
Faith tried,
Belief tested
beyond what I thought possible.
Prayer is a way of life now
not just a sometimes thing
reaching deeply inside
to understand
t love more strongly
to be more kind
to live the life
that God has given
to be thankful for America
Freedom is precious.
nessi The secret of it all is to write in the gush, the throb, the flood, of the moment -- to get things down without deliberation -- without worrying about their style -- without waiting for a fit time or place. I always worked that way. I took the first scrap of paper, the first doorstep, the first desk, and wrote -- wrote, wrote . . . By writing in the instant the very heartbeat of life is caught. "Walt Whitman's Camden Conversations"


Ness