I usually write my posts on Mondays but decided to post this one today in remembrance of the events of 9/11. Following is a poem I wrote shortly after that day (I was actually travelling into the city that morning) that I believe sums up my feelings at the time and still does today.
So what were they thinking when they woke up that morning, the morning of 9/11? Did they know what the day would bring? Or did they just go about their day as usual, get dressed, get the kids off to school and catch the train? Did they kiss their loved ones good-bye not knowing it would be for the last time? Did they know? Could they have known?
And the mothers cried, and the fathers cried, they cried on 9/11.
Did that bright shining day offer any clue of the horror that would be? When they boarded those planes could they have known they would be tested beyond belief? Or what of the firemen who answered the call, could they have envisioned their fate? It all could have changed, if they had not gone in early and instead been a little bit late.
And the world cried, yes the world cried, we cried on 9/11.
And what did they think when their fathers and mothers didn’t come home that day? Did they envision the worst? Or did they just keep, hope-against-hope, praying they soon would arrive? Now how would they manage or even survive?
And the children cried, yes the children cried, they cried on 9/11.
And what were they thinking when they laid out their plans, those deliverers of evils unknown? Did they search their souls or have any regrets or were they simply too lost or too stoned? All of these things may remain unknown, at least for now, and that is probably good.
And the maker cried, you know the maker cried, he cried on 9/11.
Thanks for checking in and let’s never forget.