Ps. 55:4 My heart is sore pained within me: and the terrors of death are fallen upon me.
***
September 11
I cradled my morning coffee,
my eyes they struggled to see.
A horrific terrible tragedy,
unfolding in front of me.
Today’s background clutter,
seemed to take a second stance,
scrambling cameras everywhere,
gave rise to a deeper glance.
A plane had hit a building,
I couldn't believe my eyes.
The horror of a gaping wound,
of such an enormous size.
By now I'm jolted wide awake,
something was just not right.
I witnessed the impact yet again,
on the twin without a fight.
Billowing smoke and fragments,
scattered all around.
People frozen in a spot,
as objects fall to the ground.
Reports of other targets,
were coming into view.
My tear-filled eyes were wondering.
what this world was coming to.
In merely a matter of moments,
my blurry eyes did see;
heroes rushing into the scene,
as workers fought to flee.
The crumbling of a building,
number two not far behind.
The crashing of plane three and four,
had mentally boggled my mind.
I couldn't feel my fingers; my fingers.
a wounded numbness arose.
I sat in total disbelief.
As my body stood there froze.
Longing to be shaken,
from this nightmare that is real.
My body shrouded in emptiness,
As I buckled to a kneel.
I prayed for lovetorn strangers,
whose faces gripped in fear.
I longed for welcome solace,
through the shedding of a tear.
The aroma of terror lingers,
as I trembled to the core.
I long for the taste of freedom,
Which I sense will be no more.
A sleeping nation awakened,
by the trumpets sounding in heaven.
Altering our lives forever,
On the day of September Eleven.
Copyright © Joni Zipp
Jer. 16-17As for me, I have not hastened from being a pastor to follow thee: neither have I desired the woeful day; thou knowest: that which came out of my lips was right before thee. Be not a terror unto me: thou art my hope in the day of evil.
I cradled my morning coffee,
my eyes they struggled to see.
A horrific terrible tragedy,
unfolding in front of me.
Today’s background clutter,
seemed to take a second stance,
scrambling cameras everywhere,
gave rise to a deeper glance.
A plane had hit a building,
I couldn't believe my eyes.
The horror of a gaping wound,
of such an enormous size.
By now I'm jolted wide awake,
something was just not right.
I witnessed the impact yet again,
on the twin without a fight.
Billowing smoke and fragments,
scattered all around.
People frozen in a spot,
as objects fall to the ground.
Reports of other targets,
were coming into view.
My tear-filled eyes were wondering.
what this world was coming to.
In merely a matter of moments,
my blurry eyes did see;
heroes rushing into the scene,
as workers fought to flee.
The crumbling of a building,
number two not far behind.
The crashing of plane three and four,
had mentally boggled my mind.
I couldn't feel my fingers; my fingers.
a wounded numbness arose.
I sat in total disbelief.
As my body stood there froze.
Longing to be shaken,
from this nightmare that is real.
My body shrouded in emptiness,
As I buckled to a kneel.
I prayed for lovetorn strangers,
whose faces gripped in fear.
I longed for welcome solace,
through the shedding of a tear.
The aroma of terror lingers,
as I trembled to the core.
I long for the taste of freedom,
Which I sense will be no more.
A sleeping nation awakened,
by the trumpets sounding in heaven.
Altering our lives forever,
On the day of September Eleven.
Copyright © Joni Zipp
Jer. 16-17As for me, I have not hastened from being a pastor to follow thee: neither have I desired the woeful day; thou knowest: that which came out of my lips was right before thee. Be not a terror unto me: thou art my hope in the day of evil.
2 comments:
A very compelling description of the Day that Time Stood Still. The horror of that day will last in the minds and hearts of all who lived during these terrible times. Very haunting poem. Good job, Joni.
Thanks Dixie.
I wrote this that evening and it still feels as fresh as it did then. Time has passed but has the world gotten brighter?
Not from the angle I'm viewing it.
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