Classic Poem

We of our generation
who touched liberty
had to leap for it.
Not as over a chasm
aided by the momentum of running feet;
but up in air ... one glimpse ...
lash-breadth of glory
white as flame on snow ...
then shock of falling backward ...
... you
we hold high above our heads.

II

We hear you knocking at our doors,
little white runners before the dawn.
We arise and accompany you forth ...
but slowly ...
for we
need our staffs.

III

Not as through smoked glasses
shall you look upon liberty,
but with the unflinching gaze
as the desert-born
looks in the face of the sun.

IV

Remember
when the dawn breaks
those who led you through the night ...
as the blind guided through the darkness
at Pompeii
those who had eyes.