By Evan Mantyk
There is a dark and forceful urge to blame
The nine-eleven terrorist attacks
On religion, on security gone slack,
On our country, for all that we feel shame,
There’s also an opposite urge not to blame,
But to throw our hands up and to step back
And claim that the peace and love we so lack
Can solve all our problems just the same.
How shallow seem these two streams of blood
That trail from where the twin towers stood,
Yet how powerful their currents still push
Like divine voices from the burning bush.
Ready me then, to ride down either one,
To humbly do whatever needs to be done.