Friday, September 10, 2010


As a firefighter, I decided I'd send along a poem I wrote to help folks understand what might have happened that horrific day. There are several layers of meaning marbled within it; words of healing as well. It is written in iambic pentameter, the preferred style of Robert Service - you'll find the rhythm.

"Calling All Angels! Calling All Angels!" Went out his thunderous plea.
"I am thy Lord beseeching my horde to assemble in front of me!"
In a flash the angels did dash to gather at His feet,
And hear His plan to help all man by use of Heaven's elite.

"The Devil's made a play this September day to hurt the ones I love,
He's loosed upon earth his demonic worth now push has come to shove.
I'll not stand by and have good men die without awareness in their heart,
So this day in my plan-full way a battle I'm going to start."

"Gabriel old friend to this end welcome every woman and man,
That'll come our way this fateful day who died by Satan's hand.
And before you go you need to know a few you'll bring straight to me,
Firefighters all now standing tall known as The Three-Forty-Three."

With Gabriel gone and quiet the throng they wondered at His plan,
To send and quell the flames of hell by use of mortal man.
All manner of doubt filled the strongest and stout of Heaven's holy array,
And fear fell upon the heavenly throng at the plan the Lord set this day.

"I can sense in thy hearts hesitation to start a battle you don't understand,
But confused as you Satan is too and that is the heart of my plan.
Fear yea not for what I've wrought I'll ask none here to face his fork,
But I'll send into hell those who fell the firefighters from New York!"

Then Lord raised his staff and began to laugh in roaring thunderous glee,
And in a booming blaze they stepped from a haze The Angelic Three-Forty-Three.
They fell into line in very short time making perfect formations of rows,
And the Lord caused to slip onto every man's hip a golden heavenly hose.

"The gravest mistake Satan did make when he struck down these men so brave,
Thinking idle I'd stand not extending my hand and their souls I would not save.
Have no fear for the men standing here the way to his place they know well,
For verily each day they've collected their pay by stepping into hell.

These men know their task now angels I ask that you hasten straight to earth,
Then comfort their friends when the tally begins and they start to question their worth.
Console them with wings and all heavenly things on their shoulder your head is to rest,
Send whispers of thanks from our heavenly ranks, say: 'God knows you did your best.'"

Calling All Angels
Written by Lea MacDonald

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