I remember 10 years ago today like it was only 10 months ago...my grandmother calling my parents that morning to tell them someone had flown a plane into one of the World Trade Center towers...thinking it was just a private plane...turning the TV on, either right before or right after the second plane hit...seeing the footage of the smoking mass of rubble in NYC and the gaping hole in the Pentagon...sitting on the floor with Daddy in front of the TV and saying over and over, "This is going to make history..."
It did. 10 years later...I still remember. And I will never forget.
FREEDOM IS NOT FREE
I watched the flag pass by one day.
It fluttered in the breeze
A young Marine saluted it, and then
He stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud
With hair cut square and eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought, how many men like him
Had fallen through the years?
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many Pilots' planes shot down?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, Freedom is not free.
I heard the sound of taps one night,
When everything was still.
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
at the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, Freedom isn't free!!
It fluttered in the breeze
A young Marine saluted it, and then
He stood at ease.
I looked at him in uniform
So young, so tall, so proud
With hair cut square and eyes alert
He'd stand out in any crowd.
I thought, how many men like him
Had fallen through the years?
How many died on foreign soil?
How many mothers' tears?
How many Pilots' planes shot down?
How many foxholes were soldiers' graves?
No, Freedom is not free.
I heard the sound of taps one night,
When everything was still.
I listened to the bugler play
And felt a sudden chill.
I wondered just how many times
That taps had meant "Amen"
When a flag had draped a coffin
of a brother or a friend.
I thought of all the children,
Of the mothers and the wives,
Of fathers, sons and husbands
With interrupted lives.
I thought about a graveyard
at the bottom of the sea
Of unmarked graves in Arlington.
No, Freedom isn't free!!
Because of Jesus,
Bekah Hope
Bekah Hope
2 comments:
Rebekah!
Did you write the poem?! It's incredable!!!
And the photo is so beautiful!
Sarah Elisabeth
Hey Sarah!
No, I didn't write the poem (should have put who wrote it though!). Someone else did quite a long while ago (before 9/11). Sarah recited it a few years ago at a speech and debate conference we attended, so I thought it would be fitting to post it here.
Love you!
~Rebekah
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