BATTLES 

We speak of battles bravely fought

on this Remembrance day.

We speak of those who went to war

and gave their lives away.

It’s right that we remember them,

and raise Old Glory high.

It’s right to speak of daring deeds,

for comrades now to cry.

But there are other battles fought

on nearer fields of war;

and there are other soldiers brave

that mothers sorrow for.

The footstep stilled, the smile of love

upon a dear one’s face;

a mother’s empty arms that long

to know her son’s embrace.

No golden medals lie agleam

in velvet boxes now;

No name engraved upon a plaque

or on a hallowed wall.

But God saw silent battles waged

and victories grimly won;

and I know a crown sits on the brow

of this mother’s fallen son.

We’re told to lay up treasure

at Heaven’s golden gate,

where moth and rust do not corrupt

nor thieves break through and take.

And there is treasure laid up now

so precious and so dear

that life itself cannot compare

to what is waiting there.

 (Goodbye my son, we'll see you in the morning!)

Memorial Day 2002

c.2002, Donna Swanson