Mother Of Exiles, By The Golden Doors
By Imran Anwar
The Statute of Liberty, in New York, is one of the best recognized symbols in the world. Less known are the full words of the poem found there. See it larger.
On a heavily clouded day in Manhattan, the often blue sky filled with shades of gray was burdened with the weight of a golden red sunset they were trying to conceal.
The light was the worst it could be for a great traditional photograph. But, as I caught the patina of Lady Liberty through the architectural frame painted Gold by the falling sun..... it provided the perfect backdrop for me to remember, and share, the words that hold so true today, and forever.
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
© 2009 IMRAN
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