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Freedom |
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What is freedom?
Can you say?
Planted long ago in a distant childhood's kingdom
Freedom held firm till yesterday...
When vile terrorists came to our front door knocking
Spewing allegiance to God hypocrite
Driving before them devastating fearing
With intolerance catastrophic...
Riding alarming wings
Hatred sings...
Homegrown freedom on that fated day
Almost lost...
Lost sight of life's golden ray
Exacting from tender hearts a villainous cost...
When the whole world
Saw Satanic minions very freedom accost
Saw rocking twin towers hurled...
From the tower of Babel tempest tossed...
The sound of tyranny rolls
The sound round the world recoiling
Down on innocent souls
Our minds rebounding with feeling stirring...
Motivated by bestial fear
Betimes held shining
Grave intolerance placed inside our ear
The proud, the foolish, the apathetic thronging...
Given voice for all the world to hear...
Like lightning now, swells the voice of Freedom
Like thunder now imprinted
Only a word I almost died for in Vietnam
But a word forever planted
A word in which grace sings liberty's psalm
Hold it close; with might defended
From days of long ago depended...
Planted by parents, teachers, friends...
Lifetimes of loving
Now its voice still, in pale misty fog sends
By a benevolent society investing caring...
Freedom's a hope never surrendered
Stewed from fanatic's teapot, boiling, roiling
Never forgotten, our very lives now upended
Tinkling cymbals, brotherhood, but reasons for being
Seeing freedom's song to all neighbors its hope sharing...
Hush now, proud spirit of anger in me nagging
Ward off this evil night
Still vengeance at my primal essence gnawing
Yet bound us to share Freedom's light...
Bruised, beaten, in angst now heartworm
Give the retribution of all men freely born
Brave patriots died for it...
Loved it as much as life itself...
In this nation, the bastion of freedom lit...
To those hearing not the candle in the wind blowing...
Bearing great horror rising at life inspiring...
Beat paralyzed our sacred, peaceful dove
Rejoice still beating in my breast, freedom is love... |
By
Gary Jacobson
Copyright 2002
Listed
July 1, 2010 |
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About
Author...
In 1966-67, Gary Jacobson served with B Co
2nd/7th 1st Air Cavalry in Vietnam as a combat infantryman and is the recipient of the Purple
Heart.
Gary, who resides in Idaho writes stories he
hopes are never forgotten, perhaps compelled by
a Vietnamese legend that says, "All poets are
full of silver threads that rise inside them as
the moon grows large." So Gary says he
writes because "It is that these silver
threads are words poking at me � I must let them
out. I must! I write for my brothers who cannot
bear to talk of what they've seen and to educate
those who haven't the foggiest idea about the
effect that the horrors of war have on
boys-next-door."
Visit Gary Jacobson's site for more information
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