The Passing Breeze

The wind has few friends
and a dearth of enemies
The wind is devoid of conscience
or purpose
or reason
It just is
and will ever be

We are different
We are human
We must be tempered by it
or succumb to it
We must align our course
to the prevailing breeze
Each whisper of each zephyr
will forever alter us
Even the feeblest gust
is an architect of our future

We will survive
for we've always thrived
in bitter times
It's more than the knack
It's the rule
We will rise beyond the ruble
We will bury our dead
and continue to stumble forward

We will deliver money
medicine and sundry aid
Construction workers
will soon camouflage
the tragedy Katrina made
We will suffer the self aggrandizement
of politicians on TV and radio
and somehow survive their egos
because we are Americans
and failure is not an option

New Orleans is not dead
nor dying
She's injured
And those who adore
the mellow sounds of a trombone
or have danced to a jazz guitar
or made love at the insistence
of a saxophone
know that Louis Armstrong
is not dead

We will share the pain and pride
of those great artisans
chefs
and humble citizens
who have given vital fragments
of themselves
to fashion what is New Orleans
We will give assistance
to our countrymen
in Mississippi
Alabama
and Louisiana
who have lost their homes
their kin
and temporarily
their direction

We won't relent
to the madness of bin Laden
nor give an uncontested inch
to the tantrums of the wind
We will survive
We're Americans

Allan M.
Copyright© 9/2/05