Author’s Note: I wrote this poem a few months after Sept. 11, 2001. I have not seen a need to edit it, since we so often go back and edit history, I have felt content to let this Poem sit in its unedited rawness for 14 years.
I have made it a ‘ritual’ to post it every year on Sept. 11. Enjoy
The world is hemorrhaging…God has let the earth
The ground is soaked red with the cries and
Of many who have fallen,
Many who have flown.
Many are laden and weary,
Many have grown and stretched
Many have been planted deep in
The earth – our memories
Many are still
God has set the world spiraling on a
Beautiful Edge. And I see the world spinning by
Out of my hands
Out of control
Out of kilter.
And out in the wilderness
To learn lessons of bittersweet confusion and love.
God has let us roam feral in our dark gardens,
Digging up the deepest places to find our home
Our truth, to learn that
Love is a beautiful chaos,
A spiritual homecoming
A poem in the making: logos at work.
It is now that we realize we merely scrape by
Along the edges
When we pray: children searching along
The fringes of our existence
To find words to bleed onto the
Pages of the flesh we still cling to
Trying to make sense, trying to make, just trying.
This ritual of poetic prayer is what the
Living do, a sort of bloodletting a sort of prayer.
Some days it is the only prayer that can be uttered these days.
Praying to be a letter opened.
The message: Live.
God has let the world bleed again
At the Borderlands so that we may
Find the words – the Word – to
Bleed truth on to the
Aging pages of our souls,
And live out our cries of anguish and joy to the Cosmos.