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In This Tower Some people felt that the Twin Towers burning, would be a time for the turning. Heads and hearts, enraged, engaged. This could be a time for learning. It’s not me, it’s not you. It is we who are burning. In this tower, we’re dying from isolation. Meanwhile a child’s eyes are glowing. In this moment, delight is not denied. As laughter, everywhere is exploding. Highjacked planes, targeting financial zones. Revenge appears, as prayers are heard in foreign tones. Crusading across centuries, history on the roam. In this tower, we’re dying from isolation. Meanwhile a child’s eyes are glowing. In this moment, delight is not denied. As laughter, everywhere is exploding. As the ashes of the dead, mingle in the rubble. Spirits rise, together one, under city moonlight. Saying. It’s not me. It’s not you. It is we who are turning. In this tower, we’re dying from isolation. Meanwhile a child’s eyes are glowing. In this moment, delight is not denied. As laughter everywhere, is exploding. ©Kalichi 2006 [email protected]