Just past the morning news
of hurry up to hustle –
a plume of smoke
and crackles filled the air.

Confusion caught in disbelief
of who had made us fall –
no one knew the names
or no one said.

Moments when the light
was brighter –
shattered by a cloud
and even then
their wings were spread
to fly.

I wonder sometimes
back to then –
of destinies becoming –
as dreams to float
with ash across the skies.

Crushed beneath our sorrow
muffled by our tears –
as heroes lined the streets
and breathed of fire.

Mothers sat in empty kitchens
waiting for the call –
would change their life
but never change
their love.

Candles burned
above the bay
reflecting home to heaven –
as slowly came the truth
to feed our fears.

Echoes still resound
along the places we were going
and all we know –
was never as before.

Stillness
wraps her loving arms
around a grieving nation –
Angels sing in voices
living here.