Nine-Eleven Recovered

He, on loan from faith, stared skyward Eyes hoisted flagless where the boom broke And saw through that window forward Coming, what no imagination could evoke. Some men like fledglings have learnt to fly, And yet to land give craft to chance These Allah gives hedonistic reward to die Was how they still explain the significance Of that jihad frightened fissable fuming Out of scowling morning, sudden Like the judgment some long awaiting Before the promised gift of heaven And after that like an Edenic shock wave Day unfolded dark gray dust and smoke Fear saw nothing beyond the sudden grave Love and quarrels interrupted like a joke A second chance never to be tolled again Where hearts like arthritic fingers petrified With pain, exit without farewell, and the rain Of sorrow's tears dilute the deluge that cried. And so seeing his last unbelief, he heard The curdled scream surrounding him The shaking world, the boom undeterred By prayer, crucifex, or child forgotten hymn. And when like archeologist sifting dust to find Doubt lost in a crevice of mind, they came Scraping with emotions, brimming and blind With grains of dust out of a tumult of flame I stood too, alone in my sudden vulnerability Seeing what's left of arrogance and city Then upswooped by feathered sense of empathy Beheld, and could not grasp the new reality. The world more secure is less forever sure Freedom is frittered by a pale fanged fear And I for all our frenzy found no crafted cure And in my heart a boom still lingers there.