Sifting through the rubbles of my life
Just really trying to see.
The beginning of my origin
Why and who created me.
The reflections of my memories
Towering over what was left of me.
Yet how intimate my memories
Of the inspiration I use to be.
Sifting, I remembered joy and confidence
Sifting, I remembered success and pride.
But then I heard the groanings
Of the fright from deep inside.
I labored hard and patient
Alerting anxiously in distress and pain.
If I could only give back lives
Is what I wished to gain.
This was mot my expectancy
To become a burial ground.
I fought against my destiny
Though I felt my poise going down.
Lady Liberty dropped a tear
As Manhattan bowed her head.
The world watched as I collasped
But consciously I am not dead.
I know its not my fault
That my beauty stood so tall.
But because of spiritual diversities
Enemies sought my dignity to fall.
I held up my statue wounded
Hoping others could escape.
For I knew then my destiny
I felt my deadly fate.
I am innocent I tell you
No compassion the enemy shown.
For this there will be more sufferings
They will reap what they have sown.
I sifted through my memory
To see if I'd done my best.
To show the spirit of a true American
Then I surrendered to my final rest.
(Dedication honoring the TWIN TOWERS that was so violently distroyed. September 11,2001)
Weir received special recognition from the Mayor of New York, New York and The President of The United States Of America for 'The Sifting'
Cecelia Weir
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sifting/
