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|In The Name Of Love (standard:other, 878 words)|
|Author: J. Nicklaus||Added: Oct 03 2006||Views/Reads: 1999/1191||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Pride and Love, like still waters, run deep.|
The well never truly empties, for if it does then so does the soul. My feet ache, and middle-aged limbs begin their dire insistence for respite. Aged and ever-wisening eyes become the conduit for introspective appreciation; a solitary presence blessed by Providence to fill to the brim, once again, a chalice of self-evident truths. It's late afternoon in front of Capitol Hill and a light breeze languishes across the grounds, overturning oak leaves, their colors cast in shades of faded mint and ember gold. The lawn is strewn with them. The area teems with people of many nations, different origins, languages, and belief systems. They're here as more than tourists. They descend upon the district to breathe the air of a system which, thus far, has exceeded the expectations of some, chagrined others, and been forgotten or taken for granted by the majority. Each person here is a willing participant in the passion and vision which history has bequeathed us. God Himself crossed the paths of our forefathers. It seems unquestionable, beyond the scope of any plausible deniability—men of fortitude, vision, heart, and even pugnacious audacity, brought together not so much as conspirators of absolute rule or domination, but as the progenitors of the just, the parental accord for the children of freedom. I have walked much for one day, yet every footfall a labor of love. I do it not from obligation, rather need—an almost insatiable desire to imprint the essence of America upon my deepest conscience. The humblest recesses of my heart know well this ardor; it manifests most every time I hear the strains of the Star Spangled Banner. Yet somehow I fear, however needlessly, I don't show it. That in my oft resolute silence I shall miss the window of opportunity to hand to my son the gifted emotion of Liberty, derived not of loquaciousness, but from heartfelt observation and dutiful attention to sovereign pride. We the people have within our grasp the perpetual honor of teaching our children things which sterile textbooks can only dream of imparting—what it took, what it means, what it is to me American. I sit and write, literally under one of the lamp stanchions at the top of the steps leading to the Capitol building. Atop the balcony, just below the rotunda, a flag waves in the breeze--a flag borne of a people craving to make their own destiny, to “start the world anew.” In mid pen stroke I'm approached: “Excuse me, do you know where the Lincoln Memorial is?” I grin at the stranger, stifling the urge to point at my heart. “Well, come over here and I'll show you.” I leave my belongings at the base of the stanchion, stepping to the left until we can see down the center of the National Mall where the Washington Monument punctuates the halfway point. “See the Washington Monument,” I say, like an idiot. “Yes.” “Walk straight down the mall, past the monument, and you'll run right into it.” He thanks me and disappears. On a clear day you can see the Lincoln Monument from the Capitol steps...but not today. A veil of dirty cotton haze obscures it. But he'll find it; she calls to anyone within proximity, beckoning everyone to be inspired. As I return to my makeshift desk, I look up to see a group of three people, two women and one man, sitting upon the first tier of six steps leading to the Capitol building proper.. One of the women fouls my personal sanctity of this place with a lit cigarette. A few moments later, a family of four, perhaps Hindus, descend down the same steps. Yet another group of British tourists meander across the path in front of the Senate wing. Slight irony there, I'd say. It has been a beautiful day to be an American in D.C. The large walls which once surrounded the Washington Monument are gone now. The fountains play in the World War II Veterans Memorial, and the Reflecting Pool once again undulates with water. And still, yet another unexpected surprise: I am able to walk around the south side of the Click here to read the rest of this story (25 more lines)
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