But then, since it's Memorial Day ...
So Many Crosses
I saw so many crosses there, my eyes began to swim,
Among all the fallen heroes, how could I find just him?
But then I found I had a guide, and this One said, "Fear not,
For I know all the servicemen who rest within this plot."
My guide showed me the way to find my fallen brother,
And said that in my family I would certainly find another.
And on and on He led me there, to pass by every stone,
To show me of the fallen ones, which ones had been my own.
"I did not know so many had been taken of my clan."
"Not all have died in battle, but each one has been a man.
A man to stand against the tide, and sweep it back to cower,
And that is why I hold them here, in this My sacred bower."
I looked in wonder ‘round me in this forest of the brave,
Where each stubby sapling was the marker of a grave.
I said, "Why have you gathered these? What is the plan you made?"
He said with sadness, "Many others ran away. These are the ones who stayed."
"They stayed when others ran in fear. They went toward the harm.
Though many knew no more of war than being on a farm.
They were steadfast in battle, and were conquerors of fear,
I have plans to grow some more of them. This is a garden here."
"The seeds of their great courage, will rest within your souls,
And when the need arises, you will find you have controls,
Over the blinding terror, over the numbing fear,
Perhaps one day it will be you who journeys here."
I was no longer trembling. I did no longer weep.
I no longer was a stranger in that strange and silent keep.
It was a ward of brothers, a loving family somehow,
And then I knew that I would be just like my brother now.
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . May10, 2004
We Saved A Seat
We keep a place in the parlor, a seat for an old friend,
Someone who went to fight for us, we shall not see again.
But just in case he wanders by, he’s welcome to a rest.
We’ve got the seat saved just for him, as flowers will attest.
We don’t expect to see him, though we think of him a lot.
We only know he said, “I’m going, and I’ll give it all I’ve got.”
We know he gave it that and more, and didn’t pass in vain.
I guess we sorta knew it when he stepped up on the train.
I’d rather think of him that way, instead of in the mud.
And certainly I wouldn’t want to think about the blood.
Determined was his visage, and noble was his cause,
And when we count our blessings ‘round, we stop here and we pause.
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . . May 3, 2004