Nancy L. Meek
A TIME FOR CHANGE
We thought nothing would ever change.
Could ever change
The life we had come to know
The world lay at our feet, our own heaven below.
Nights spent in each other’s arms… loving,
For a lifetime of kisses and laughter:
Babies, birthdays, happy forever after.
Then our good ol’ Uncle Sam came calling,
Finger disjointed, pointed
Ringing the Liberty Bell just for you
Tolling, to defend our Red, White and Blue.
And so you stood… with your head held high,
Shoulders squared, so prepared;
An avenger of freedom, stalwart and strong,
Ready to fight… to right any wrong.
And then you were gone… for an eternity
Or so it seemed
Our heaven placed on hold until duty was done
Or till the Kings of the World decreed who had won.
Then God in his mercy brought you homeward
To your loving wife, our waiting life
Ready to seek once more our rainbow’s end
Determined to forget… or at least to pretend.
But the war clung to your weary shoulders
An oppressive load, too heavy to hold
Disguised as demons haunting the night
Delivering visions till the dawning light.
Again you were back there bracing to die,
Seeing that evil grin through jungle grass
Knowing it’s over, your heart failing fast,
Turning toward me, in the uncomfortable dark
Blindly staring, wide-eyed glaring
Preparing to fight till the bitter end came,
Preparing to strike… till I shouted your name.
Our rainbow was fading; our life took a turn
All we had known had come to an end
The war had stolen my lover, my friend.
We battle each day with war’s cruel fate
But with courage, undiscouraged
Prepared to fight for a life of a peaceful kind
Where visions of war never come to mind,
Where innocent boys can turn into men
Seeking peace, without cease;
Living a life full of hope, laughter and love
In one world, under God… our liberator above.
Alas, for now, the river is much too wide
Though churning, turning
Some are listening and some have heard
But others have not heard a single word.
The news must get out there and be told
Reporting, forever retorting
That war is Hell on Earth, where torment is real
Where real bullets kill young boys who really feel.
Pinch yourself; this is not a dream by no means
Believe it, receive it
Or off to Hell you will go again, again and again
Murder and destruction in our world… without end.
We have failed in our true account of the dead.
For in the counting thereof, we’ve failed to note
The soldiers’ seeds unsown, being too many to quote.
For each baby unborn is a generation lost
Put them all upon the wall
Beside their ancestors who died for you and me
Exposed to a rising sun they shall never see.
©Copyright February 16, 2001 by Nancy L. Meek