Each rising of the sun begins a day of awe, destined
To bring shock to those who can be shocked.

This day began in sunlit beauty and, like other days,
Soon fell beneath death’s demon shadow.

The darkness crossed Manhattan and the globe,
The crashing planes, tall towers bursting into flame.

The hurtling steel into solid steel endlessly played
On the nightly news until imprinted on our brains

People lurching from the burning towers, plunging Like shot geese to the startled earth beneath.

The shock was painted on faces on the news,
That such sudden death could be visited on us.

But such death is not extraordinary in our world of grief,
Born anew each brief and scarlet sunlit day.

White flowers grow from blood stained streets
And rain falls gently, gently in defiance, not defeat.

*David Krieger is the president of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation (www.wagingpeace.org). He is the editor of Hope in a Dark Time (Capra Press, 2003).