Posted on 10/05/2001 7:28:43 PM PDT by Rose in RoseBear
Two Thousand One, Nine Eleven
Two thousand one, nine eleven.
Five thousand plus arrive in heaven
As they pass through the gate,
Thousands more appear in wait.
A bearded man with stovepipe hat
Steps forward saying,
"Let's sit, let's chat."
They settle down in seats of clouds.
A man named Martin shouts out proud,
"I have a dream!" and once he did
The Newcomers said, "Your dream still lives."
Groups of soldiers in blue and gray
Others in khaki and green then say,
"We're from Bull Run, Yorktown, the Maine!"
The Newcomers said, "You died not in vain."
From a man on sticks one could hear,
"The only thing we have to fear ..."
The Newcomers said, "We know the rest,
trust us sir, we've passed that test."
"Courage doesn't hide in caves,
You can't bury freedom in a grave."
The Newcomers had heard this voice before.
A distinct Yankee's twang from Hyannisport shores.
A silence fell within the mist.
Somehow the Newcomers knew that this
Meant time had come for them to say
What was in the hearts of the five thousand plus that day.
"Back on Earth, we wrote reports,
Watched our children play in sports,
Worked our gardens, sang our songs,
Went to church and clipped coupons.
We smiled, we laughed, we cried, we fought.
Unlike you, great we're not."
The tall man in the stovepipe hat
Stood and said, "Don't talk like that!
Look at your country, look and see!
You died for freedom, just like me!"
Then before them all appeared a scene
Of rubbled streets and twisted beams.
Death, destruction, smoke, and dust
And people working just 'cause they must.
Hauling ash, lifting stones,
Knee deep in hell.
But not alone!
"Look! Blackman, Whiteman, Brownman, Yellowman
Side by side helping their fellow man!"
So said Martin, as he watched the scene,
"Even from nightmares, can be born a dream."
Down below three firemen raised
The colors high into ashen haze.
The soldiers above had seen it before
On Iwo Jima back in '44.
The man on sticks studied everything closely.
Then shared his perceptions on what he saw. "Mostly
I see pain, I see tears,
I see sorrow - but I don't see fear."
"You left behind husbands and wives,
Daughters and sons, and so many lives
are suffering now because of this wrong.
But look very closely. You're not really gone.
"All of those people, even those who've never met you,
All of their lives, they'll never forget you!
Don't you see what has happened?
Don't you see what you've done?
You've brought them together, together as one!"
With that the man in the stovepipe hat said,
"Take my hand," and from there he led
five thousand plus heroes, Newcomers, to heaven.
On this day, two thousand one, nine eleven.
-- Author Unknown
The poem two thousand one nine eleven is one that my mother wrote and i posted on the internet for her. You said the author was unknown and now you know. It is Rhonda Roberson. This is her daughter Shelby Roberson. Thanks She deserves all the credit for this.
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