Oklahoma City Bombing Grieving For Those Who Died
I only hear the silence as I stride,
Twixt granite chairs neatly set in rows.
The 169 chairs epitomize each life,
Now neath a sea of grass that grows.
My psyche periodically visits this place,
All be it, here, their Spirits do not rest.
However, a Monument and Reflection pool,
Usher memories, as if at their behest.
Still I visualize a chain link fence,
With images, blossoms, Pandas and such.
A transitory memorial that reaches out,
To asphyxiated lives, as if to touch.
For certain, I dare not challenge,
The eternal rest, of those who sleep.
But pausing at each chair, in silence,
I recall this day's events and weep.
I would to God, that casualties,
Could discern today, my thoughts about.
Then from the quiescence of this place,
Would emerge an angelic shout.
For I tire of silence.
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