THE WALL - 1

Some of us see God sitting for Eternity,
With Herald Angels, on a golden throne,
cradling and bathing us in white light,
As we tumble toward the end of a dark tunnel.

Others see The Great Spirit everywhere,
Whispering in gentle breezes and moaning bells,
Or singing the Universe into Being -
From a Singularity to the end of Time.

I see a God swathed in fire and smoke,
And standing proudly and saluting,
Behind a long black shining Door,
Carved into the brilliant green lawn
At the feet of Abe Lincoln.

We bring our flags and our flowers
To parades and graves all across the Heartland,
But we bring our poems, and our letters,
And our tears to the Wall of Names.

Some children who miss their fathers -
Who never even saw them -
Talk to them for the first time
There in the Moonlight.

And parents who can only see their sons
Standing silently just down the hall,
Near their rooms with their trophies and teddies,
Touch their cheeks, and whisper to them
Through their names carved in black granite.

Some Parents cannot even go to the Wall,
But their son's buddies will find them,
Down through the years,
Just to tell them that -
Even though they died in a stinking jungle -
They didn't die alone.

It's a place so Sacred that it's even right
For a woman to tell her first Sweetheart
She still loves him - and that she's
Married and happy again.

And now we come by the millions,
From a nation who once jeered and spat on them,
To respect, and honor, and love them,
And thank them -
For doing what they had to do.

We're all just smoke on the wind,
Dew on the petal waiting to fall.
We're all just moonbeams on the water,
Looking for our names on The Wall.

©Copyright 2004 by Paul Aveill Liebow