Peace
A dust devil blows across a weary road, which has seen too much travel, to many comings and goings. The stories it could tell, the songs I'm sure it would sing. Songs of those it carried, the countless mass throughout its long life. I sit and watch the weary travelers as they scurry by, avoiding the pitfalls on their way to there destination to finish there lives.
I cannot help but ponder upon the roads of my life. Those that brought me here, to this corner of the universe. The byways that I trod, some simple ones spreading from a childhood of wonder to an uncertain manhood, and on to a clear vision of the path I am to take.
As I sit here in the lands of Eden, walking thru the fields of Babylon my spirit wonders. Far from this terror, from the decay, desolation, and ridged stagnation. To the midwestern fields of home. To the city on the hill, I can see it shine when I close my eyes. I long to feel the grass beneight my feet. To feel the lovely sting of snow on my skin. To hear the bustle of my countrymen.
Yet I must focus on my current task, upon the road that lyes before me. Upon those that wish to kill me,upon the people I'm here to help. I hope to one day return. To see this place on my own terms, not under the pretenses of conflict. To see the beauty that peace can produce to see a nation formed from chaos.
That is my dream for this land. That these roads can carry a people to a greater destiny then they have ever known. To peace; peace that takes hold after victory. Peace that transcends generations. Peace that will build a strong nation. My simple wish for these travelers is peace. Until they have it I shall fight, work, and even pray. May the Gods hear such a prayer from a small man, in a strange place, upon a battlefield.
I wear the garments of a warrior, ready to do battle with my foe at a moments notice. A battle for my life, for the very life of this land. Yet under all the vestments of a warrior lies the heart of a poet. One that longs for harmony, serenity, and a lasting peace. As I kneel and say my prayers, I wonder at the irony. Does he hear the prayers for peace from a warrior like me? I think he must, for it is the warriors above all that longs for peace.
I cannot help but ponder upon the roads of my life. Those that brought me here, to this corner of the universe. The byways that I trod, some simple ones spreading from a childhood of wonder to an uncertain manhood, and on to a clear vision of the path I am to take.
As I sit here in the lands of Eden, walking thru the fields of Babylon my spirit wonders. Far from this terror, from the decay, desolation, and ridged stagnation. To the midwestern fields of home. To the city on the hill, I can see it shine when I close my eyes. I long to feel the grass beneight my feet. To feel the lovely sting of snow on my skin. To hear the bustle of my countrymen.
Yet I must focus on my current task, upon the road that lyes before me. Upon those that wish to kill me,upon the people I'm here to help. I hope to one day return. To see this place on my own terms, not under the pretenses of conflict. To see the beauty that peace can produce to see a nation formed from chaos.
That is my dream for this land. That these roads can carry a people to a greater destiny then they have ever known. To peace; peace that takes hold after victory. Peace that transcends generations. Peace that will build a strong nation. My simple wish for these travelers is peace. Until they have it I shall fight, work, and even pray. May the Gods hear such a prayer from a small man, in a strange place, upon a battlefield.
I wear the garments of a warrior, ready to do battle with my foe at a moments notice. A battle for my life, for the very life of this land. Yet under all the vestments of a warrior lies the heart of a poet. One that longs for harmony, serenity, and a lasting peace. As I kneel and say my prayers, I wonder at the irony. Does he hear the prayers for peace from a warrior like me? I think he must, for it is the warriors above all that longs for peace.
posted by Gipper at 10:06 AM
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