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Show -2- Washington's shudder travels to fire-warmed rooms, leaving its glacial touch. And infinite men lift Paine»s pen, sense his torrential power of words, They find themselves bound to that heated printed form. The battle sites, cloisters of self-rule, Ritualistic advances and retreats: Bunker Hill, Trenton, Yorktown siege, Amid the mortars and cannons is heard a soft liturgy of release, Release from chained vows and submissive moves. Ignited pyres of houses, fields, and men, Each flame sees the purging of patriotic souls. The raising of the flag, the lowering of the bodies, Immersion in the sky and earth, the freedom rite enacted. Far from the blaze, a great Congressional hall echoes its plea, The dissolution of a political bond once shared. Long hours spent, that intolerable heat, Jefferson paces his room, He inks out those words that shall later be bronzed. Alone, he descends the stairs, he goes to meet that assembly of men, Discussion, debate, frenzied yells that end in hallowed mediation. One quiet July dawn is broken by mass commemoration, And with the reading of those words, the din gives way to silence. Doleful blowing of the fife signals the surrender, Sanguine sabers find their rest and worn guns are buried. A long awaited farewell is voiced as the General waves his hat, Communal struggle ends in one communal embrace. |
