by s.mckeown
The wail of war horns called the young to throw themselves away.
The peel of mortars, the burning oil launched by trebuchets.
Prehistoric tanks deployed their whistling rounds ignite,
While safe room politicians vow to carry on the fight.
I saw uniforms of every nation duck and dive their course,
Causes armed with children were spent without remorse.
Bloated greed with ruptured seams would spew the willing fodder,
As beasts of corporate virtue ate the souls of sons and daughters.
Every army from long since past appeared upon the watchtower,
From times of stone to nuclear drones each age was called to war.
From Genghis hordes to corporate boards, the parapets of paper,
Would burn again by sword or pen reducing us to vapor.
As if on cue a hush ensued that silenced gun and mortar,
Machines and horses slowed their gait and tanks would go no farther.
The quiet spread despite the rage from flags of degradation,
Lasers dropped from hands and eyes turned toward one direction.
A shaft of light had cut its way through clouds of wrath and fire,
And far below on the valley floor amongst the blood and mire.
The light had found a singing child whose arms were open wide,
The words were strong and strangely clear though the child softly cried.
The melody gently found its way a soothing truthful sound,
The child’s song stayed every hand with words of lost and found.
The dogs of war lay still at last, the beasts gave way to beauty,
The child sang with arms held wide to challenge king and duty.
The song gained strength, the soldiers stopped to turn and lend their ear,
Knights reined their steed to halt their charge from the front line to the rear.
The trenches emptied as soldiers rose to stand behind the wire,
The Gatling barrels turned their last as generals called cease-fire.
I dropped my shield and made my way to where the child stood,
His words cut deep so I felt the need to ask him if I could.
How he found the courage within to sing where death was king,
So I made my way over sightless eyes and mounds of dying things.
Over tanks and trenches, a path made straight to where the child stands,
It seemed I couldn’t help myself I had to understand.
He turned to face me, and then I saw his eyes were full of tears,
“You’re brave to start to sing this song in spite of what you fear.”
And all the while we shared our thoughts he never stopped the song,
While volleys of death were still at rest the words disarm the throng.
I marveled at this child’s voice and how clear the gentle words,
Could make the ageless monsters sleep and calm a war of worlds.
“I had no fear to start this song when cannons first were shot,
The tears are there because I know what happens when I stop.
But you made your way and now are here the only one to ask,
So I will teach you how to sing so I can rest at last.”
So I began with open heart to grasp the lyric and the song,
And though at first we sang together I turned to find him gone.
While song and tears draw soldiers near to come and take my place,
I learn to hold a humble heart that sings Amazing Grace.
