Not of tragedy, not today-
I will not hold the truth today,
Sacred sky, come what may,
I will not bow under the weight.
Not with edges jagged, coarse-
How unsightly it is to bleed-
Pain is ugly, and truth is worse-
Obnoxious in its demanding creed.

Golden girl of dusty bones,
5 minutes waiting for the train-
Platfrom, ribbon of concrete,
Summer glare off sweaty street,
The sweet soft smell of recent rain.
That’s right now-
Breathe in, breathe out,
Bend down and bow,
I’m safe and sane…
…..creeping doubt…
Breathe in, breathe out…

Train wheels rumble, metal clang…
…While towers crumbled, the birds still sang-
And from the rubble, they dig up limbs,
and still the clock tower rings and chims-
From ash and ruin, time stubborn, ticks,
Though we are broken, and our blood runs slick,

And to a God beyond the stars-
I dare not turn to with my scars…
Still at the train station,
Still golden sun,
Still distracted nation-
We run and run-
Still moment clutched,
Between my sleeves,
I still am hurting…
…I still believe.

 

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