Never Forget And Yet Poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell

Five minutes in and we are united
holding hands as though a nation of one,
arm-in-arm against the uninvited
in a show of strength against man and gun.

Like pillars of strength, we stand defiant
on the steps of suspicion and mistrust.
Deep wounds afflicted the rising giant.
The mighty have fallen, melted to dust.

A whispering wind, a desolate face,
lips tightly drawn as a violin's bow,
absence of emotion, self-restrained grace,
and blue eyes hiding what they cannot show.

The pet goat parted from the burning bush
as September spires were raging with flame.
Birds fell from the sky with a zealous push
by the nameless who claimed another's name.

The unwinged bodies, the down-turned in flight,
the broken bones on a grave slab of stone,
are one-way tickets, the right of the might,
the fluttering leaves of pathos alone.

The fire, the smoke, the ambient motion
sparks the defenses, demands reprisal.
The shocking blow, the turbulent notion
shakes the senses to one of survival.

With the passage of time, the winds disburse.
Heightened emotions are tempered with peace.
Assuaged by justice and the strike in reverse,
there is comfort in the armor's release.

So we profess and promise to remain
united as one against any threat,
to rise above the petty and profane,
to stay strong and never forget; and yet …