Monday, September 12, 2011


11 September 2011

On this commemorative weekend, we spare a moment to think of those that can no longer feel the grass under their feet, that can no longer cut the roses and tulips and honeysuckle from their gardens, that can no longer pluck ripe tomatoes from the vines in their backyards and give them to their children to devour, that can no longer feel the warm September sun on their backs as they dig the good earth. Those who became dust roaring through the streets of Manhattan, those who became disbelief and horror in the form of a pile of rubble of cataclysmic proportions, those for whom horror continues in wars that have, despite patriotism, failed to rid our world of terror and led to even more destruction.
May we plant seeds for them.

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