September 11 Digital Archive: XML Document

Story:Tuesday Mourning

Like the Lark from her lily to the waiting willow weeps
A nation searches for its fallen, the hope it somehow keeps.
Beds wait cold as the caskets collect and the sky once more is blue
Still the sun makes cool skies warm. We find this day so new.

Pray for the souls of the dead and the spirit of the living.
In light of the gravity, may the levity we start forgiving.
Every evil has its good and every good its reasons to smile,
I hope you find your joy this day and let it stay a while.

I know mine in the company I keep, my family and friends alike.
We shared our worry, tears and prayers, our bliss and our dislike.
We found friends both old and new for whom we know great concern,
And we sit before the news with anger and grief we can?t discern.

I see the reports of the missing and hope for their survival
As the spouses and children, mothers and sons wait for their arrival.
I rest in slumber, pleased to dream hoping I won?t remember,
That Tuesday morning shattered glass in mid September.

There is tomorrow and all it holds and the sun won?t fail to climb
The stars will fade as always and the skies will change in time.
The clouds won?t care what day it is, but pass as they so please
Waters will continue to find a crest from the mountains to the seas.

On Saturday I sat for dinner with my sister and my mother
A fine feast awaited us of this, that and the other.
First we prayed and sat in silence with candles burning bright
Then shared a laugh of love and longing, for persons out of sight.

It was the first I?d seen my family since the towers fell.
I was pleased to share their company in ways words cannot tell.
I remembered another who?d that same night, first see her family since.
And knew in her mother?s grateful arms she?d find her recompense.

I left my mother?s with a smile on my face, better times ahead,
Until I remembered those without, the missing and the dead.
Have hope for times of merriment with tears of joy adorning
But never forget September eleventh our darkest Tuesday mourning.

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