tribute

what response
what possible reply
to a statement of that stature
such vast violence
venomous dripping fury
dropping fiery molten metal
and hapless humans
from an indifferent sky
instantly igniting
scores of unsuspecting souls
burning burning
frightfully fast
the rest of us
soul shaken
serenity stolen
perception of peace
ripped
from our surprisingly
shallow grasp
how easily assailed
how combustible
ash to ash
we are

from the rising dust
we filled our urns
and steeled ourselves
for the inevitable
repeat tragedy
we dabbled—
understandably—
in the vocation of vengeance
and found neither our calling
nor our heart in it
it did not suit our spirit
the hammer is not
the tool for every job
bombs cannot revive
nor bullets heal
the sword will be sheathed
as we emerge
from an anger
more righteous
more consuming
than we imagined possible
an anger not so far
from that which is
burning burning
frightfully fast
in the neighborhoods
the streets
the rubble
of the craters
of the bombs we have dropped

what response
what possible reply
to the extinguished flames
of our precious hearths
those irreplaceable comrades
the support structures
of our families
the cube mates
playmates
soulmates
all still smiling silently
from thousands of frames
in thousands of homes
from wallets and purses
from computer screens
gloriously immune
to our present pain
perhaps no tribute
more fitting
than just living
it’s all we’d wish for them
so we attend to the prosaic
the daily minutiae
and now and then
we commemorate
but all the while
we continue
to dip our cups
in that endless spring of emotion
from which sorrow, anger, joy and hope
freely flow
we shamelessly feel
the still raw gnawing
of wounds that do not bind
blood that refuses to clot
tears no less fresh
lips that quiver readily
we whisper their names
we smile and we cry
and deep belly laugh
we ache openly
shake our heads
then nod
and keep moving
with a fear that informs
without paralyzing

September 06