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When Titans Walked |
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With all the things in life I had prepared myself
to do,
The moments left of great surprise I thought were very few.
And yet one summer afternoon, at home of all the places �-
I found myself surrounded by a group of eager faces.
Their foreman was my grandson, who was barely more than ten,
Amid a pack of other boys now crowded in my den.
"We have to do a group report," he said with voice enthused.
"But we don't know which one is right, we're all a bit
confused.
We thought they were a football team, but then we found a
moon,
and then some stuff from ancient Greece; we gotta know real
soon."
"Slow down," I said amid the rush, the thread too long to
follow;
it seemed to me a giant leap from football to Apollo.
"Just take a breath and tell me what it is you need to know,
and I will give you any knowledge that I can bestow."
They took a breath and I could see their little faces
brighten.
"Well, Grandma said that you would tell us all about the
Titans."
"Oh she did," I mused, a grin most wry now forming on my
lip,
the smell of cookies in the air, most likely chocolate chip.
Well gather round, and so I leaned, my voice now free of
mirth,
and I will tell you of the time when Titans walked the
earth.
"It all began in time of war," I said, my tone ablaze.
The boys fell deathly silent, not an eye turned from my
gaze.
"Twice it was already that the whole world shook with fear
and felt the tremble in the ground as enemies drew near."
"But all too soon it seemed that once again the bombs would
fall.
The third was sure to be the final ending of us all.
In back yards there were shelters rather than a swimming
pool
and on a siren children hid beneath their desk at school.
They lived in fear that any day would bring an end most
dire;
a day when cities vanished in a ball of roaring fire.
And that was when the Titans came from in their caves of
stone,
from deep beneath the earth their doors slid opened with a
groan.
Their swords as tall as buildings they could split a
mountain sunder;
and when they growled their anger shook the ground like
bolts of thunder.
The Titans rose and showed themselves for all the world to
know,
Emblazoned on their mighty shields the number three-nine-oh.
And with a voice as loud and clear as trumpets made of
brass,
They carved a line across the earth and snarled, �You shall
not pass.'
And then it was our enemies who trembled at the sight;
they placed their swords upon the ground and backed away in
fright.
For now they faced a guardian no army could resist,
and no one wish to be the first to feel the Titan's fist.
The Titans stood their silent watch as one by one our foes
withdrew their tanks, their airplanes and their soldiers
lined in rows.
And only when the last was gone and they were left alone,
did Titans once again return to fortresses of stone.
My grandson was the first to speak and break the silent
scene.
But what if they come back, he said, our enemies, I mean.
What if they decide to bring the fight to our home town
and come with bombs and guns and stuff when Titan's aren't
around?
I smiled and said "Don't worry son, that isn't gonna
happen."
The Titans aren't really gone; they're just nearby and
nappin'.
And should the need arise to wake the Titans from their
slumber;
They left behind some special guys who always have their
number.
So rolling up my sleeve I leaned amid the boys to show,
The letters proudly inked in black, the number
three-nine-oh. |
By
Michael Marks
Copyright 2004
Listed February 15, 2009
Author's Note: This was written with the
deepest respect and gratitude to the members of the Titan
Missile
Group:the 390th Strategic Missile Wing Memorial Association,
on the occasion of their 2004 Tucson Reunion.
This poem now hangs in the Titan Missile Silo that has
become a museum to these silent warriors, who
carried the unthinkable responsibility of waging nuclear war
to keep us safe throughout last half of the 20th
century. It was that might, and a belief in their
willingness to use it, that stayed the hands of our enemies.
God bless you all for the service and safety you gave to
this nation. |
It is illegal to use this poem without the author's permission.
~~ Send your comments and/or use permission request to
Michael. ~~ |
