Thank you to everyone who sacrificed for liberty, for the American dream this world will always need.

I was standing on my father's* shoulders (*decent neighbors, ancestors, relatives - anyone and everyone who brought joy and laughter, music, stories, love - a moment of escape in the midst of chaos that allowed me to be kinder moment to moment, and, especially, to avoid the reality of the pain in my weary mother's eyes).

I never truly represesented the U.S. military, FR, or America, or my birthstate, country, sex, my family - or even myself - while posting here as Ragtime Cowgirl. I never wilfully misled you, any of you. The deeds and words - articles, your responses and actions - were as real as they were to those involved.

The miracle of it all to me, even one as small as I have always been can get past the protective shell covering heart and soul, and grow, and try to make amends, even if in very small steps.

In case the world ends tomorrow (or mine does) I had to apologize to all of you before I am truly able - and to everyone I so carelessly, recklessly, cluelessly trampled on across the days and weeks and years who is still in the arena trying to stand up something worth keeping.

Thanks for the opportunity to see a little farther, be a little better today. Even if for a short while I am truly grateful.

~*

inspired by "A Site to Remember," Jonathon V. Last, Feb. 28, 2003 -
"'No design debate. No media noise. Just quiet visitors honoring Flight 93." Gentle beauty.

...

A Pennsylvania Field on a Winter Day, 2001

As sunbeams fall from still blue skies
To scatter stars across the snow
And touch the grieving hearts below
The air was charged with a Hero's call,

"Let's roll"...
...

A small flag stands in a snowy field where heroes died.
A witness welcomes strangers there, where heroes died.
With hands outstretched she welcomes them, her countrymen.

...*

As sunbeams fell from still blue skies
To scatter stars across the snow
And touch the grieving crowd below
The air was charged with a child's "WHY?"

... " l e t 's r o l l "...
...

From sea to shining sea we stand,
Together and alone,
Apart and divided,
Ghosts with mangled histories,
Broken hearts and dying dreams,
We gather round a Christmas tree
In silent certitude
And plea.

For love,

For mercy,

For all.

For once.

... (to be continued...)
(Did you know? Did you see up there beyond the sky? For now we know too much and seem there is no where here for broken hearts to mend For broken children to grow, for weary child-parents to do for their own weary parents and children)
...*

As sunbeams fall from still blue skies
And scatter stars upon the snow
And touch the grieving hearts below
The air is charged with a Hero's cry ... And, in reply, a Lullaby.

With an echoed cry from every age
Of soldier, mother, child and sage -
Wee sad hearts and Sentinels
Seeking sanctuary
Finally See.
Finding refuge
Together,
In Dreamland.

Free.

...

Hero and Lullaby,
Hearts entwined,
Found Hope And Home -
Sweet Home -
Upon a hill,
Too near the sun
For more to Be.
And we the people
Who know we are too wee to be -
And yet we are -
Know hope in their love,
Stand united in their light,
With all who came before seeking more.
And still,
And forever,
Say, "NO," to tyranny.

...

"If destruction be our lot we must ourselves be it's author and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time, or die by suicide." - Abraham Lincoln, 1838

...

A small flag stands in a snowy field where heroes died.
A witness welcomes strangers there where tears are cried.
With hands outstretched she welcomes them, her countrymen.
And beneath the protective ice of ages,
Washed in a chorus of healing sorrow,
Uncondemned,
Finds tender heart,
And friend.

.....

... (to be continued)

- heather

july 25, 2010