Oh the decisions, both good and bad, that have been made around a five foot table. This poem is dedicated to my wife’s Aunt Donalee Strand, who makes it the fiber of her being to ensure everyone has a place at her table. We love you.
Thanks for taking a listen to my version of Calmness of a Warrior.
Each time you listen puts a smile on my face. I cannot believe how emotional a person can get when you actually have to read a poem out loud.
Moving Forward in Reverse
The past never leaves, but is blind,
Blurring visions of the future,
Events that once were left behind.
Memories reincarnate from a time gone by,
Moving forward seems impossible,
Reparation vacant, reinforcing the question why.
Is it the enemy or a gift given by events beyond any control?
Appearing without out discrimination,
Memories climbing up a tunnel from a dark hole.
A dwelling opponent with appearing from dark resurrection,
What if this, I could have done that,
Opposing it’s will with no ability for correction.
A gift when remembered and lessons have been learned,
A cluttered path becomes clear,
An advantage in life’s choices, and the freedom you have earned.
Take the past’s lessons, plan and rehearse,
Better late than never,
Moving forward in reverse.
Garden of Trust
In this vast world filled with humans, seek those that one can trust,
The inside is true and what matters,
The outside insignificant, beautiful or covered with rust.
To see a person for who they are takes not your eyes,
Listening with one’s ears,
Sorting out the truth and the lies.
Eyes locked in place, speech genuine and profound,
These are the words to believe,
Straying from truth, when the conversation turns to the ground.
Seeking similar souls and building a safe place,
These seeds of a beautiful garden grow,
The weeds pulled and are displaced.
As the flowers grow, harmful intentions sound off like a symphony of 1000 horns,
No matter how much work or beautiful this garden of roses,
there will always twice as many thorns.
A family, church, perhaps battalion with a battle plan,
History has proven success through a constant,
the strong leading Front Man.
A squad patrolling in the jungle or the sand,
The sergeant on the street,
Or the lead singer of a band.
This person has no gender, their color does not matter,
A soft tongue yet careful ear,
Measuring what is heard through the jeers and the chatter.
Standing in the front, yet among those they appear to lead,
Hard, compassionate, yet fair,
Accounting for all, ensuring every need.
Defining those around them, speaking for the mass,
The best of what is around,
Polished like fine silver, transparent as glass.
The Front Man must know that they simply represent,
all that surround them,
No matter the scratches on the surface, a tear or dent.
Walking softly yet hidden beneath, a reluctant hammer,
Good, bad, or indifferent,
A buffer from hell given, recipients of inadvertent glamour.
How did they get there, are they volunteers?
Chosen by fate, life, or other means,
Suffering the boos and the relishing the cheers.
Be it a soldier, cop, or nurse, sometimes even a music fan,
Willingly or not are defined,
by the words and actions of the person they call their Front Man.
Pray for Our Country
Pray for our beautiful country,
It is what we all have together,
One nation united under God.
Whether you believe or not, what does it hurt? Our country, our name is supposed to unite all. Do we always get along? No. Do we always agree? No. Will we ever get along and agree? No. What we can do is disagree, respectfully, and still be one nation. It makes us stronger and better every day.
If you pray, pray for this country as a whole. If you don’t pray, see the previous sentence. If you choose not to, understand your choice is accepted because of the very country of which you live.
The freedom to respectfully express oneself and opinions is something of which we have, and continue to, pay a dear price. Be responsible with these freedoms. Be respectful to your fellow countrymen and countrywomen.
Thank you to my beautiful wife for taking a picture of these less than perfect hands.
Jedidiah, Solomon the King, known for his song,
Wisdom and wealth excelled by God,
Before him are his people of which he judges right and wrong.
Kindness of word often met with evil response,
Glaring injustice before you,
Righteousness is the armor in this confusing nuance.
What else can I do, what does it exactly take?
Move forward true to the word,
Powerful truth etched in minds like stone tablets, conclusions they will not make.
This corrupt game is cancer, lingering like a ship off the shore,
What was once now is destroyed,
I choose to feed it no more.
The world spins one direction bringing light each day,
For others it spins out of control,
And in darkness is where they stay.
I choose to travel the high road, wash my hands of the past,
Learning from each new commitment,
Forging my iron with those that last.
Gray lines to some are in the middle, I see them closer to black,
I stay on the white line,
Once crossed over, there is no turning back.
It takes many coats to cover dark writing on a wall,
But dark writing appears easily,
In the end, was it worth it all?
I say no, to graffiti a pure and subtle place,
Is to slip from the gray line,
And be filled with shame and disgrace.
Will they admit it, to no one but themselves?
Ego, and hate ruling their lives,
Each pain stored on their mind’s shelves.
I have no answer why injustice sometimes prevails,
Impatience of heart be calmed,
The story hardly over, not knowing what it entails.
Questioning why and predicting the plot,
Our own ignorance abounds,
Patience provides peace, and answers to questions sought.
Value is in a family that becomes much closer,
The reward is the song like Solomon’s,
Rich with peace and love, and God is the composer.
Do you split the baby or give it whole to the liar?
The corruption starves with no food,
You have won your family, traveling the road that is higher.
I was content, satisfied with those already here,
Not expecting how much you could love,
How much I would hold you dear.
Brave yet timid, sometimes easy to scare,
Your devotion to this family,
Offering your white paw for me to share.
You stayed for the summer, not one to forget,
Chasing cattle in the pasture,
Learning how to play, but never figured out “sit”.
I thought back to all the good times we had,
Your master called you home,
My heart was wrenched, this day beyond sad.
I saw it in your eyes, confusion and fear,
Loaded you in the car,
Said good bye with a tear.
I will come and visit every chance I get,
and bring your favorite bone,
And together, we will work on sit.
All summer I would visit, but it was not the same,
So excited for visits,
Leaving you there was a shame.
The falls leaves turned, and the weather became bitter,
Your master fell ill,
And asks us to be more than a sitter.
She picked you up that day and told you it was time to go,
Jumping in to the car,
Your bed and toys in tow.
Meekly you ran to me, my eyes shined like chrome,
This is your family,
Mikey had made it back home.
I See No Color
I see no color, in a sister or a brother,
But I am red, bravery and valour, the color of blood that was shed.
I see no color, in a father or a mother,
But I am white, pure yet innocent, as we stand colorless for what is right.
I see no color, in a soldier or any other,
But I am blue, vigilant seeking justice, high in the air watching over you.
When I pass by, stand, you live free only because heroes had to die,
I see no color, you do, in life and one another.
My color you see, together, were made by sacrifices taken to be free,
Stand for me because I am you, your flag, red, white, and blue.
What does it take? To me, the hypocrisy of freedom is when people do not realize that the same reason they have the “right” to do this and that derives from the price that was paid. Sure you have rights, but do you have respect for where those rights actually came from? There is a time, place, and way to exercise those rights. We can get the most out of everything our freedom has to offer if we are responsible.
Freedom, hell no it isn’t free, it is an investment that cost, and continues to cost. Understand what the cost of that freedom was and still is, and you will understand that to exercise the return from that investment came at a dear price.
I love this country. I don’t always agree with decisions that are made, and like this post, I am able to make it known. Agree or disagree, that is your freedom. We can still have a beer at the end of the day.
Thank you Veterans for your service!
Thanks for taking a look.