Monday, May 28, 2012

The End of a Storm

Hear the shouts of joy, the tears of sorrow
That man may never see the day tomorrow.
Feel the pain in your spine as you walk away
From the family you loved down by the bay.
Smell the garden in spring, the fresh Lilly,
The rose that made her smile and say you're silly.
Lift high the banner he left behind for you,
A reminder that you ought to be true.
Yet forget all fear, all doubt, all anxiety,
Else though their sacrifice be accomplished
You will not have learned by them to be free;
And this, indeed, is that they'd have wished for.
That you'd pick up the torch, make it your chore.
They gave up what they had so you could have more,
And though the colors are faded, those they wore,
And all that once they valued is vanished in
Misery and corruption, the taint of sin,
You still have in you the will, to fight, and win. 
On a cold summer day when all has been done,
When the battle is over and the day is won,
Think of those that fought in winter's heat,
Those tried by fire, by frost, and sleet.
Forget the woes that caused coast to sunder
From coast in that great perilous thunder;
Now a memory faded in summer jeans,
And torn apart, threaded at the seems. 
But don't forget the hope they once had
To deliver you from what they saw as bad.
For no matter the hatred that sent them to fight
Against the dreaded foe, during blackest night,
No matter the anger you felt at their absence,
The feeling of fear that sent you into a trance,
The thought that they might never return again,
Might never hold you, never come round the bend,
No matter the end they met, or the label
Put upon the war in which they fought and fell,
No matter these things, in their hearts they smile,
And they think of you, thinking, all he while. 
Sure it was wrong, history would say to us;
That we didn't try hard enough, didn't trust
That peace could be had, that we could have done
Better to save our daughters and our sons.
Yet they don't care what label history gave them,
They died for a brother, a sister, and when
They came to on the other side of it all,
They were satisfied, proud they answered the call.
So hear again in your hearts the sound of music
That first ushered forth a new country, a new age;
Hear again the sound of antiquated weapons, rustic
Instead of the anger, the hate, and all the rage.
Bend your mind to give thanks, to pray, and hope,
That no matter the label, the war, or the leader,
No matter the intentions that were held like a rope
To the pure intentions of those that were sure,
That they who died for their brother's sake, fathers name,
May rest eternally in peace, as in a summer rain;
Now end your prayer with the thought of the sun
Breaking through the clouds, it's presence a train
Of cars that filters through the darkness now done.
Think of summer, of life, of happiness,
All the things of life which we bless.
Hear the shouts of sorrow, the tears of joy,
That men come back and no longer deploy.

                     The End of a Storm, (c) Luke Bennette, May 2012

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