As I dressed for work September 11, I heard the report of a plane hitting the first WTC tower. Wanting to hear James Dobson as I drove, I turned on the radio, and suddenly the morning changed. The world changed. A few days later I put into words the disorientation I felt at that time…
TUESDAY
My mind is not my own today.
Focus is not on mundane occupation.
Another matter is being processed
and my mind is not my own.
It is only partly engaged with today.
That other day still holds its attention.
That day of awesome surprise
and death by proxy.
My mind is not my own today.
It is held in hearts so diverse.
Hearts that are breaking;
Hearts that seethe with fanatical hatred;
Hearts too young to comprehend their loss,
and hearts stirred to patriotism.
The minds of America have been imprinted
with a date and an image
seared on the soul of a nation;
About to be flung to the ends of the earth
on the wings of American eagles.
My mind is not my own today.
But God is there to hold it safe
In a Mind that has held so many dates
and hearts
and the myriad images of war.
c.2001
God Bless America