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It was another plain morning in the mundane business
belt
until we felt the day stay still, and we knelt to
pray at will.
In the decade since our engrained
tranquility was strained,
our prayers have waned, and
cooperation was not sustained.
As proof time is trained
to be aloof to tears of our grieving,
the babies born to
widows, our high schools are now receiving.
And in
history books, I fear a new chapter must appear ...
Alongside its heavy content, the sheen on serene sheets
shall screen
the extent of torment The Event means to
they who lament ...
Until the day they die, for some,
when the autumn sun is high
in the September sky, the
past and present run as one:
The scene, never done,
repeats; people run; the crowd retreats ...
And, where
the cloud of carnage meets startled city streets,
the ash
painting the panorama underpins
our divine Manhattan
skyline mourning her twins ...
If we try to ask why,
theologians will explain,
when God grants free will, evil
may reign, despite its pain.
My theory, one of many but
as good as any,
is that the gist of why a sadist's
bloodlust exists
isn't to be endeared to God, but feared
like God.
Some philosophers pry ...Why was the September
sky
a nearly perfect hue of select, pastel blue?"
The
poets sigh ... because on this date the land stayed dry
when the cascade of nearby angels refused to cry;
they
came to fixate upon the souls they had to elevate,
and
through the demure azure, the dead felt peacefully lead ..."
If we heed our ancestors' lead, never letting faith recede,
the wealth of our prayers might impede the stealth of the
slayers,
but if we try to ask why, our first task may be
to find
ourselves resigned to God sometimes being
disinclined
to thwart an evil mastermind within
humankind.
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