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Battle over: Death
Destruction and Despair;
huddled group, empty eyes,
await their worst fear.
Had it been the darkest night,
not the break of day,
they might have blamed their lack of sight;
might know what to say.
The brightest, the best,
no more aware than the rest -
lost in confusion, numbed,
needing rest.
Such a long battle,
so much energy expended.
Is that Death’s rattle?
Is this how it is ended?
They squabble, bicker,
blame and dispute
over who is the thicker,
concerned for their repute.
The voice of Reason is not enough;
The Muse, the artist has fallen short;
The Soldier? He just knows his stuff.
Argue, argue, without a thought.
In the end, it’s simple, the least
will ascend, to lead and admonish
- to focus, and say “I am the Will”, rest
and reassemble, gain your strength, refresh!
Battle over, the War is not:
always be another, live
and learn; don’t count the cost.
Gain from experience, give
and share with others;
individually, we are lost;
a child without a mother;
collectively we are strong.
Battle cry? Oh, no;
it’s more of a grateful sigh;
hear bird singing, beautiful,
before launching into a sky
so radiant blue, kissed
by golden sun; feel the grass
beneath your feet, the wind.
There is hope, progress.
Hold high a battered bridal bouquet,
proclaim a heartfelt “Hallelujah”!
You might not know the words to say,
I will try and sing them to you”
Les Bush
5 April 2013
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