Day of Terror

Last night I dreamed about a plane tumbling out of the sky. In my dream it turned out to be an elaborate hot air balloon (one of two by the way), but the feelings of seeing this 747 dropping out of the sky in my dream caused a profound disturbance in my day today. I did a quick Google search on plane crashes and of course 9-11 topped the lists. During my Saturday meditation this poem came so strongly to me I stopped my meditation to write it down.


Day of Terror

some died screaming
not understanding
what was happening
until they heard
the Arabic proclamation
Allah is the greatest

some died instantly
coffee in hand
sneaking a peek
at one last personal email
before the boss arrived

some died blinded
choking on smoke
trying desperately
to reach more fresh air

some died later
weeks, months, years
succumbing to diseases
caused by hazards
never meant to be inhaled

some didn't die
their bodies continued
something less than whole
without a sole understanding
how they persevere

ltv