The Unknown Soldier

One sharp pain. One utterance of surprise. Oh.
He leaves no great philosophies. There are no medals, no headstone.
Only a few strings left attached to this world.

Letters in government files
The sacrifice a mother makes to prove her relation to the boy whose life is opened up on paper
for a pension she is denied.

Is it invasion to hang on their every word --  
the words of intimacy and filial love in these letters?
I am his family too and he is mine.

These strings scribbled on cheap, creased stationery
little ways of knowing a great deal (though I knew him
without knowing it all my life ).

Apologizing for his handwriting and blaming his pen.
Butter from a country doctor as he sits in a hospital bed.
No letters from home yet.

Despair in one string, bravado in another;
A book sent home to remember him by and
I'm a tuff buck now.

Have brother plant these pair seeds
They be big as a fist and
From Vermont.
 
He spells as he spoke:
haint, dast, Upstate I be
The book cost me dear.

The last string of words
money sent home for mother's new house
never be afraid to ask, I gladly go without.

He is my muse and my relation
All these years later a picture is found
and we look the same.

I've known him and I have no doubts.
Never question God's creative force,
or His happy coincidences.

The heavens open sometimes
and the saints speak and pray --
happy for reunion.



Yet we are courageous, and we would rather leave the body and go home to the Lord.

2 Corinthians 5:8

For Further Reading:

DO THE SAINTS PRAY FOR US?

WHY SAINTS PRAY FOR US

THE BIBLE SUPPORTS PRAYING TO THE SAINTS

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