The Battle Cry

Two soldiers heard the battle cry,
Their blood grew cold within;
One thought of home, of loved ones dear;
The other, love that had not been,
Of chances that had passed him by
While he said, "Not today."

He thought of works he meant to do,
Of things he meant to say,
To his parents and his relatives
To friends, moved far away,
And he regretted now his words,
"I'll work on that, but not today."

Each hour, the battle cries are heard
By soldiers, just like you and I,
When those in need call out our name,
Do we march forth or not reply;
If we forget, we may regret
The race we have not won,
The love we've left un-nurtured,
The good we've left undone,

The choice is ours to make each day,
When cries fall on our ears,
When those in need, the marginalized,
Voice their hopes and fears;
As we listen, young and old,
Let's not let our hearts grow cold,
Don't tell them, "Not today".
   Edie Batstone