Forty four died that day in a common field,
covered with a blanket of grassy hay,

Many call them hero's, and celebrate what they see as freedom fighters battling their common enemy,

"Lets Roll", is it this common battle cry which best serves their collective memory, or should we look past the revenge and fear, past the official agenda of a war cry to hear,

For in their calm and collective effort the one thing which speaks louder than any battle cry, is the fact that they called home, asking everyone to do the right thing, requesting their sacrifice be not in vain,

Whether you visited that field one moment after the crash or visit now years later, what you will feel, what you will sense, what you will hear, what you will know, is Flight - 93 hit that hallowed spot at 525 miles per hour, Screaming for Peace,

Forty four died in that moment, not for war, not for god or country, they died trying to get home, trying to make a more peaceful world for their loved ones to live in,

Those forty four acted not as a team, not as a democratic body, they acted as fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, loved ones, they acted as human family, and to this day you can stand in that sacred field and hear them, softly, peacefully, screaming for peace,

"People ask who, what, when, where, how, why."
"I ask peace,"
Quote by - Deora Bodley age 20, the youngest passenger on Flight - 93

Listen to the children, asking for Peace, is that to much to give ?

©Bruce Larson*Moore
9-11-2005

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