Surviving Pompeii

(A poem written after 911 to commemorate those who had fallen….)

And when the dust had settled,

palled the earth in its thick blanket,

when the scorching heat had dimmed,

cooled in a wash of rain and tears,

when the victims cried no more

and survivors distant stared agape

at what had been their mountain,

what had been their city,

no fist was raised against the sky,

no gods were shamed or thanked,

no foe was made of ash and dust,

all hearts were turned to stone.

But breezes blew still from the sea

Sun and moon still graced the sky,

the land still birthed an endless bounty

while a people mourned this tragedy

It was these people, care worn, weary

who again took up the task of life

and ever onward, forward moved,

with Pompeii forever in their hearts

and Vesuvius always in their dreams.

And bit by bit, a weed grew here,

a struggling vine, a flower there,

and they brought peace to those who fell

and time again healed all its wounds.