Twist and Turn

How one somehow absorbed itself
into the other - those days of loss
that spread around the world.
I wonder even now, if that great
love that we once shared, might
just have made a difference.

Loss of love, and then the crash
of life into an aftermath of death.
Flaming, falling - those twin towers,
just as the love we used to share
was being thus destroyed.

Have you ever wondered what
your choices meant within the greater
atmosphere? Or how those seeming
small vibrations of your voice might
move and blend into a thought
of such oblivion, that ever on,
the world would be altered?

The sorrow reaches deeply
into all we never wished to know
at all. And grief has come to speak
itself within the might of yet another war;
no matter how we swore that it would
never come to that again. Should
we fly another flag in that remembering
that never soothes at all?

Then came the day - sun shining brightly
through our atmospheric pressure. Twin
towers fell into the knell of endless chimes,
announcing the funereal again. Did you
think that you might leave all that behind -
life moving on, as if it never happened?
But no, the love of all eternity
could never fathom that.

And so, you come to know an unconsidered
feeling within every breath you take. No matter
how you think the air must ever live for you.
And you sense, within your cells, a quivering,
that never was before. Could it be fear...?
But no, you swore you'd left that all behind.
As once again you grasped for just a feel
of all the safety that once felt so innocent.

Life goes on, you tell yourself, unaltered -
as you force yourself into the same old rut.
Consistency - is that not what they say
must take the day...? Yet think again, for
war has been included in the history of
every human being. And has it not yet
come to that again? No matter that the
films are spun upon a TV set - you have
always known the difference between
real and make-believe.

And yet now, when you reach for peace
in yet another fantasy, the image of those
towers fallings bleeds into each image
on the screen. For every particle that lives
has come to feel, again and yet again,
those moments when the terror seemed
to win it all o'er us. Shall we try to carry on
then - pretending that it never happened...?
Is that the best advice authority can bring
to such as this...?

Twist and turn, but never sleep. The long
awaited truth is rustling, so near to its
rebirth. Wishing only for the love, that
seems so absent in the world of man...

? Michaelette ?

5/3/2002
Copyright© 2002, Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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