In remembrance of the victims and of those who died, in memory of the innocent people who have lost their lives in the wars across Iraq and Afghanistan. R.I.P.
“That Love is all there is,
Is all we know of Love… ”
It wasn’t you, it wasn’t me,
Up there, two thousand feet above
A New York street. We’re safe and free,
A little while, to live and love,
Imagining what might have been –
The phone-call from the blazing tower,
A last farewell on the machine,
While someone sleeps another hour,
Or worse, perhaps, to say goodbye
And listen to each other’s pain,
Send helpless love across the sky,
Knowing we’ll never meet again,
Or jump together, hand in hand,
To certain death. Spared all of this
For now, how well I understand
That love is all, is all there is.
Poem by Wendy Cope, copyright 2006. I do not own any rights to this poem. No copyright infringement is intended.
Public domain image source: Power Of Light by Nat Sakunworarat