I received an e-mail in which I was asked why I haven't written anything about September eleventh. I had no answer. I have no words to describe what I saw, felt, thought ... still see, feel and think. And I will not use this as a forum to expound my political beliefs or rhetoric. I've visited a number of sites that address the horror of that day. Some are encouraging/healing, some are pure self-edifying drivel. I've watched people, who months ago didn't give a hoot about patriotism, suddenly attached the American flag to everything but their forehead. I've listen to people use this an excuse as to why they didn't pay their bill on time and other assorted perversions. I've witnessed good people being accused of something they are not. Why haven't I written about 9-11-01? How can I possible put words to something I still cannot get my mind around? I cannot fathom this. I spoke to someone who had been at ground zero after 'they' fell and agree that no picture, still or video, can truly capture the scene. I know that whatever I think or say or write, that whatever I feel ... will never, ever change what I see when I close my eyes. It took me days and days to get past the fear. To realize that no matter what happens, fear was reactive and what I needed, was to be proactive. I still watch the nightly news, catch the occasional news mag and read the grit of print reporting, but I don't live in it. I live thousands of miles away from New York, from Afghanistan, from Israel, from Palestine ... yet I live next door. I live in my own small world ... where the constant threat of bombs, and anthrax, and terrorist attacks only remind me to love more deeply ... to be more open ... to listen with my heart and soul ... and never, ever forget. GlassPoet ~2001~ BACK |
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