I was on the 11th floor in a smoke-filled room;
Holding steady the fingers of a man dialing his wife.
He says, “Honey, I am not going to make it through.
I am ready to go. I feel I have had a very good life.”

I was in the stairwell on the 23rd floor.
A woman cried out for help to me.
“For years, I have been knocking on your heart.
Of course, I will help and answer your plea.”

I was at the base of the building with the priest.
He was ministering to the injured and worried souls.
I called him home to tend to his heavenly flock.
The death angel came as calamity took its toll.

I was on all four planes, and in every seat.
I heard every prayer uttered, knocked on every heart.
I gave reassurance, peace, comfort to know
That I was with them right from the start.

Yes, lives were lost on a high-jacked plane
For which the enemy had a plan to unfold.
He was diverted from a major attack
God-given courage in action said, “Let’s roll.”

I was in Texas, Virginia, California, Michigan.
I was standing next to you as the news flashed on T.V.
Many recognized my presence, and began to pray.
Yet, others ignored me there. Did you not sense me?

I saw every face, and every name.
Though, all did not hear me when I did implore.
It took tragedy to strike to turn over hearts.
Many met me the first time on the 86th floor.

Some sought me with their very last breath.
Some could not hear me as they were in despair
I said, “Come to me this way. Take my hand.”
Some chose to ignore me again, but I was there.

Sept. 11, 2001 was not the end of the journey for you
Just as for many that day in the twin towers,
But, I say to you, “Seek me now while I may be found.”
I will meet you in the stairwell of your final hours.
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