***I work through my emotions in writing. I can't remember a time when that wasn't true--whether in a journal, a list, a poem, a piece of fiction, or a letter to a friend, I've always felt unsettled and unsatisfied until I've been able to find the words to record my feelings. While I don't necessarily view poetry as solely a means of self-expression, writing helps me sort through things. After September 11th, I started writing a poem each Independence Day, and I wish I had kept them all because you could really see the healing process as I came to terms with the human condition, war, and my ever-changing definition of freedom. While I can't share them all with you because I no longer have them, I have this poem, the one that started them all, written in a tiny dorm room 1500 miles away. It's a little anthem-y, not because I think that's poetically best but because it's what my heart needed when I wrote it. Enjoy.***
A crash—a flash! Then all was still.
A silence o’er the country broke.
The nation wept, the world looked on—
Two mighty tow’rs went up in smoke.
So many dead, so many lost,
So many more in mourning prayer,
Then what? A song, triumphant yet—
Our anthem floated through the air.
The stars and stripes may have been burned
By those confused, lost souls of men,
But who can doubt the courage-pride
We felt to be American?
Be proud of your strong heritage,
The faith of those who went before.
Thank God for freedom! Pray that we
May keep it, now and evermore.
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