A Fire Fighters Dream.. To Be Read in NY Sept 11 by Brisbane Poet

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A FIRE FIGHTER’S DREAM

His voice boomed like a beacon and it echoed in my soul

From the land of opportunity, reverberations roll

All across the mighty sea to where the Southern Cross stars gleam

I was listening…and I heard it…when he said…I have a dream…


And the dream I had was beautiful – what more could someone pray

Than to wake up in the middle of a perfect summer’s day?

An aqua blue-like canopy pays tribute to the skies

And there I see this young kid with a hero in his eyes

The hero is a humble man and not the type to shirk

A proudly spoken fire-fighter on his way to work

His profession is his passion, his adrenalin, his spark

The hat he wears to battle is his way to make a mark

And waving from a window, now the boy begins to cry

You see the hero is his father…and he hates to say goodbye


And the dream I had was terrible, from nowhere they appear

Monsters in the New York sky that choke the day with fear

It can’t be real – the questions burn with why and who and how?

Go and turn your TV on…please…just do it now…

An evil cloak in plumes of smoke replaces freedom’s gown

The flames reveal their secret truth – the world is falling down

Falling, sprawling, screaming, calling, crying as they go

A fire fighter grabs his hat and flies to meet his foe

Forward into battle now – he hears a church’s bell

Forward into no man’s land - Forward into hell


And the dream I had was powerful – the best of humankind

Courage is a heartfelt word not easily defined

It doesn’t equal ‘fearless’ as some sideline experts claim

No…courage is ‘to be scared…but to go on just the same’

To rally in the moment then to rise and climb the stairs

To save as many people as an act of courage dares

To dig and dig then dig some more – to be there for your mates

To look your leader in the eye and know the end awaits

Underneath the carnage, when the count is done and said

The only thing recovered is his hat of ‘firey’ red


And the dream I had was personal – I’ve put my kids to sleep

But the images still haunt me and reality cuts deep

I see the faces of the fallen – the tape forever runs

I see the mothers and the brothers and the sisters and the sons

And the comrades and the colleagues, they are never to return

But for every face, a candle…and tonight, that flame will burn

It burns for something precious – something every hero gave

It illuminates ‘ground zero’ and commemorates the brave

Of religion, race and rivalry, it burns across that scope

It is pure in its simplicity – tonight, it burns for hope


Yes the dream we share IS hopeful in our darkest hour of hours

Beams of light now kiss the sky where, once, we saw two towers

Of this, be strong and steadfast - Of this, stand tall and say -

There are some things that an enemy can never take away

I can feel it through the flag that flies, defiant in the gloom

I can see it through the window where a boy waits in his room

He is waiting for his hero, still, to walk back through that door

The hat he holds is scuffed and scratched but this, he knows for sure

One day he will wear that hat and pride will reign supreme

Because his father’s gift was freedom and for that…he has a dream…


Rupert McCall 2010