If anyone has any poems or stories about Veterans (alive or dead) they would like to share I invite you to do so in the comment section or to send me an e-mail at:
asoulswalk@openmailbox.org
We are not as alone as we often think. Cheers.
If anyone has any poems or stories about Veterans (alive or dead) they would like to share I invite you to do so in the comment section or to send me an e-mail at:
asoulswalk@openmailbox.org
We are not as alone as we often think. Cheers.
And still a fractured self
That hurts and bleeds and cries
And still is slow to trust
Still afraid to obey
Still afraid of stillness.
Does this story end well?
Do we make it out alive?
Is there hope not just then,
but now?
Is this life worth living at all?
How do you trust this Jesus
This God made man
This one you never saw
And never
felt his skin.
Your head,
not kept up
Your eyes,
empty and still
Your shoulders,
low and hunched
Your voice,
a whisper.
I do not stop for coffee
when I have no hope
and it is hard to speak to God
here in this desert.
But seeing you
I am reminded
of this sad thing:
I am not alone
in hurting,
in grieving,
in pain.
But it has grown hard
hard to take on another’s pain
hard to love
hard to comfort
when I have such little faith
and even less hope.
But I see you stranger
I see it in your eyes
I know that this moment is misery
And if you would just look at me
for a moment
you would see
that you are not alone.
Would in thought my heart to be
And as I think a single thing
“Do I make it out alive?”
You said that one thing
As the boat bobbed up and down
And the wind paused
But I just couldn’t bring myself to believe you
And yes I know how many problems there are with that last line
I know that’s not how belief mechanisms work
But we can’t talk philosophy all day everyday.
If you made it to today
I must remind you
She is still beautiful
And you must give thanks now.
Another day up on the ground
To train a heart is hard to do
Let the Lord then have his way
And I will wrestle too.
Because the waitress can be nice
And already knows to serve
You want to ask her out
But haven’t got the nerve.
You make up your excuses
And tell yourself it’s right
But when her shift is over
You’ll still be alone tonight.
You know she’s very pretty
And can fake a pretty smile
And you know she works her ass off
Mile after mile.
She has a certain mystery
You wish you could ignore
But here you are again my friend
At her table through her door.
I’ll give you this just this once
It’s hard to start from scratch
But fires never burn a thing
Until you light the match.
To the weak that toil beneath the sun
And long for rest under the shade
Have you my friend even begun?
To make your way to where it’s laid?
But who can find the way so far?
And climb themselves up there so high?
And who can weather many storms?
The ones that come to see you die.
We long for what is there my friend
And wish that it were ours to hold
But wishing never made it so
And many trying won’t die old.
Sometimes it’s hard simply just to be
And you can’t imagine any good end
And if you can’t even end well in your mind,
How will the real life end?
Sometimes the hardest thing
Is being where you are
And time will not support you
Not even the littlest bit.
Sometimes you get stuck in your mind
Trying to find a way for your real life
Not succeeding you become lost
And you lose touch with the real.
Sometimes it seems unbearable
It being the thing
And what are you to do?
What are you to do?