At Freedom's Feet

From a vantage in the sky,
Liberty stands firm and starkly green
against a pall of ash, a wall of darkness
advanced, collapsed upon us.

From down here, through uncolored eyes,
from beneath a hem of frozen folds
as thick as I am tall,
her dress drapes wider than a city block,
tablets in unyielding arms hang
more massively than foundation slabs.

From beside her sturdy sandaled feet,
She is taller than the tallest
building ever built,
her crown of spikes impenetrable,
a reminder to us all --
only that which burns inside her heart
may rise to light her thoughts.

Seeming miles above, her torch burns
like a hilt of sword about to grow a blade
straight from Freedom's fire,
so tall, so sharp, its polished point
would wound the sky.

Her face -- as hard as iron,
cast black and streaking gray.
Her eyes brood unblinking,
brow curled dark above
to shield her gaze from rain,
chin and jaw seized in invincible metal
but speaking words to me.

Of Truth, of Freedom,
forever alive in us,
kindled bright from points of light
to blinding blades of fire
that slay the night
with Justice.

Scott Speck
09/17/2001