Tag Archive | soldier

Love Thine Enemies

Revulsion

There was a young soldier in the German army
During World War Two. He was opposed to the war
Because he was a Christian. He knew it was wrong
What his country was doing, but he went along
Because he had no choice. He had zero rapport
With fellow soldiers. On nothing they could agree.

He was not enthusiastic. Officers knew
Of his sentiment. They made his life difficult.
“Who among us does not have bright and gleaming eyes?”
They would ask. “Here’s an old man whom we should despise.”
They’d find any opportunity to insult
This person, and there wasn’t a thing he could do.

On a cold winter evening, it was Christmas Eve.
He was standing guard duty alone as he heard
People singing Christmas songs which made him feel sad
Because his thoughts were with his loved ones. So he had
A deep sense of frustration. His heart was interred
In a hell whose grotesqueness was hard to believe.

The next morning a young woman called to him from
A window. She did not speak German, and he spoke
Not her language. She offered him something to eat
And some drink. Her country had fallen in defeat
To the Germans. What kind of love does this evoke?
From where does this kind of pure benevolence come?

They invaded her country. They were enemies,
But that didn’t much matter. On that Christmas day,
Both received something special. Christ said that we should
Love the ones who would hate us. It does the soul good.
What she did was most certainly the Christian way.
Is it worth it to see the way that Jesus sees?

The Real Heroes

The Nation's Noblest

The decision to serve a cause greater than I –
There’s no other one like it. The self that I know
Loves its freedom of conscience, and that’s a big deal
To myself and the ones I protect. I can feel
What my country expects of me. Onward I go
Into harm’s way knowing fully well I may die.

Those who’d think of my service not worth attention,
Who say more people die in the streets every day,
Know not what it would be like to march into hell
Just because you were told to. The will does compel
One to do what is needed. The price that we pay
Simple minds can’t imagine. Their essence is none.

All the die hardened rebels – those proud groups of boys
With their loud mouths and savagery, flail into war
Without knowing an enemy may take them out.
That someone wants to kill them is easy to doubt.
Cowardice is the outcome. Piss poor to the core,
They retreat to their boys’ rooms. No one this annoys.

I do want my life dearly as all people do.
To the fullest extent that I possibly can,
I shall live the adventure my destiny holds.
I know who is the enemy. What e’er unfolds,
That someone wants to kill me is part of the plan.
It’s a different ballgame that’s played by the few.

Seven Ages Of Consciousness

Seven Stages of Humanity's Growth

Seven cycles of twelve years – a normal lifespan
Corresponding to Jupiter’s solar orbit –
Are the Ages of Consciousness of humankind.
The gas giant’s influence on how we’re designed
Has to do with expansion of human spirit
Through each phase of development. Whose is this plan?

Not that it matters muchly that living takes place
Within provident cycles. The world is a stage.
The first act played upon it is of innocence
And conforming to standards. From this stage is whence
We advance to the ego. With fear we engage
The illusion of crisis in love or disgrace.

Powerful is the next act. Material gain
Through obtaining of assets the young lover sees
As righteously courageous for the family.
One consumes the adventure most voraciously
With community service and actions that please
Everyone in one’s circle through sunshine and rain.

Amplified in our giving, the soldier instinct
Comes acute with the passion of security.
Ego has become socialized and made a tool
For the next stage of judgement and sharp ridicule
Of the system’s mis-workings. The need to be free
Of the full-bodied duty will soon be distinct.

Wisdom is that of old age. The heart of the sage
In weak health with thin body and loose fitting clothes
Has become again childlike, recalling the days
When one had much more relevance and garnered praise.
Helplessly, losing all touch, the consciousness goes
Long before the remainder is swept off the stage.