SK: Re: (OT) TWO THOUSAND ONE, NINE ELEVEN

Sharon Bowman dillonlokismom at home.com
Sun Dec 23 11:00:57 PST 2001


(OT) TWO THOUSAND ONE, NINE ELEVENThank you for sharing it was the most beautiful thing I have read in a long time.

Sharon
  ----- Original Message ----- 
  From: Tracelene 
  To: skunks at rdwarf.com ; skunks101 at yahoogroups.com 
  Sent: Sunday, December 23, 2001 10:43 AM
  Subject: SK: (OT) TWO THOUSAND ONE, NINE ELEVEN


          
          THIS PERSON WHO WROTE THIS SHOULD STEP FORWARD AND CLAIM THIS POEM  TO ME, THE WORDS ARE VERY MEANINGFUL!
          
          TWO THOUSAND ONE, NINE ELEVEN
          
          Two thousand one, nine eleven
          Five thousand plus arrive in heaven
          As they pass through the gate,
          Thousands more appear in wait
          
          A bearded man with stovepipe hat
          Steps forward saying, "Lets sit, 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 said, "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 said, "You died not in vain."
          
          From a man on sticks one could hear
          "The only thing we have to fear.
          The Newcomer said, "We know the rest,
          Trust us sir, we've passed that test."
          
          "Courage doesn't hide in caves
          You can't bury freedom, in a grave,"
          The Newcomers had heard this voice before
          A distinct Yankees twang from Hyannisport shores.
          
          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.
          
          "Back on Earth, 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 rubbled streets and twisted beams
          Death, destruction, smoke and dust
          And people working just 'cause they must
          Hauling ash, lifting stones,
          Knee deep in hell, but not alone
          
          "Look! Blackman, Whiteman, Brownman, Yellowman
          Side by side helping their fellow man!"
          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 you
          All of their lives, they'll never forget you
          Don't you see what has happened?
          Don't you see what you've done?
          You've brought them together, together as one."
          
          With that the man in the stovepipe hat said
          "Take my hand," and from there he led
          Five thousand plus heroes, Newcomers to heaven
          On this day, two thousand one, nine eleven


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