Homing Birds Poem by Gilbert Pangyarihan

In Memoriam: 9/11 Victims

The birds are flying; they are a-coming.
They are bringing, swinging a song to sing;
Flitting, airing a song under the wing –
For the world a hearing of the song they ring;
Fleeting, crooning in the skies a-shining –
For us a learning of a song to sing.
The birds are a-landing; they are a-heading
Towards a building towering, shimmering;
A-humming, a-homing in on the building –
A-dazzling, a-bustling, a-dashing, a-flashing.
The birds are a-crashing into the building –
A-bursting, a-burning, a-rocking, a-crumbling.
They are a-winding up the song they’re singing
With their being – a-searing, a-disappearing;
A-rewinding, a-repeating the same thing
From the very beginning to the twin building.
The birds were singing we were a-forgetting
In a world outlying lay their brood a-breeding;
A-sighing, a-crying their brood was a-dying,
A-needing an attending, a giving, a living.