We are so vulnerable. Our hearts are very strong.
But when it comes to violence our body cannot protect itself without help.
I was told that a plane had hit one of the World Trade Center Buildings in New York.
I walked over and looked at the TV, as I watched the fire and
smoke in one building, another plane flew right into the other building.
I knew then that something was not right.
I knew that something evil was taking place right before my eyes.
I realized that human bodies were being consumed by fire and wreckage.
The intense heat was vaporizing human lives in those buildings.
I knew that the smoke was going to smother the lives of human beings trapped in the upper stories of these two buildings.
As I watched in amazement white/gray smoke fell slowly to the ground.
I thought to myself, " The other building is disappearing and falling to the ground."
The concrete from the building was falling on human beings and disintegrating them right before my eyes.
This catastrophe was pulverizing human life.
More that two thousand human lives were being blown to bits by the heavy weight and pressure of the falling building.
The vaporized bits of concrete and human beings formed a cloud that billowed over the earth.
This dust of human form and concrete settled on the earth.
Only pieces of life were blown away to fall to the ground and settle into their own dust.
I watched again as the second building fell in the same manner with the same results.
It is difficult to understand why another human being would take pride in seeing this happen.
It is difficult to understand why any one would think that this was good and that god would approve of this violence.
The dust of these human beings will settle over the earth.
The dust that is choking me was once alive, a life with a family.
Where is the value in the lighthearted flower?
Could I paint a wonderful picture of a mare standing with her foal behind a black fence swishing
her tail in the colors of the fall foliage?
Would there be any harm in painting a picture like that.
Could I write a poem about dreams in an obscure language making it flow with delight?
Would there be any harm in that?
I have wonderful choices. So why can't the world have those choices?
Where did the world depart in the wonderful dreams of youth?
Are we going to stand up and say what is on our minds?
I think the world knows that we are divided and together as one.
We will all behave differently.
We will condemn violence but we will try to stop a recurring ball from bouncing out of control.
Will our words make sense? Nope!
Our emotions will tell the story.
In the minds of the young, terrorism has sealed it's own coffin.
The world now knows that death of two thousand people will not solve any of their problems.
Like an old factory, the framework of their minds will have to be retooled.
They'll have to update their thoughts and realize that violence does not solve anything.
They are condemned in the minds of the world.
The prison is in their minds; the falling building will fall repeatedly in their dreams.
The screams of the children of god will slide down their walls.