An Elegy of September 11

A unique line against the skies.
Terror reign midst desperate cries.
The plea for help, but none to save.
Thousands embrace an eerie grave.

One-hundred-fifteen stories high,
Fires rage, and people die.
Heavy smoke billows up,
As many drink of a bitter cup.

Survivors weeping in the street
The silent tone of human bleat:
Sight and sounds of painful sigh,
With certain fear in the eye.

Searching for a loved one lost,
Bound to find at any cost.
Vainly roaming to and fro,
They sit and wonder where to go.

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poem by Walterrean Salley
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The Legacy Of A Dreamer

Someone said that I’m a dreamer,
And if that’s really true—
I’d like to dream the kind of dreams
That few dreamers do.
I would dream the fairest dream—
One that I could share
With rich, poor and so much more
Of people everywhere.
I would dream constructive dreams,
With new ideas on which to build—
Accomplishing elaborate schemes,
By labor and by will.
I would dream impossible dreams
And diligently pursue.
And I would work tenaciously
To make those dreams come true.
I’d dream away the hurt and pain
That sin has caused us all.
I’d dream away the clouds and rain
That linger from the fall.

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poem by Walterrean Salley
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Space-Shuttle Discovery

(The July 2005 Mission to the
International Space Station)

Should there be another flight,
Or would scrapping it be best?
What of the man shuttle—
Would it past the test?

And if Discovery launches,
Would she return to land?
These unsettling questions
Plagued every man.

With the Columbia disaster
Freshly in mind,
We wondered of the risk:
Would the nation pine?

But safely, she made it

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poem by Walterrean Salley
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