Strange, how all new things
reflections of experience that lives
itself right out of time and space.
Querulous, the way our minds seek
ever just to understand it all.
Perception is an ever moving
Never based on just one sense, but
rather senses come together in relation.
Like a river gathering its strength and
speed from moisture all around. It
changes as it changes everything
within its route.
Men go off to war - to protect
loved ones from the gore of that.
But haunting memories of their experience
are always there, with them. They try
to hide them, deep inside, that no one else
need ever feel the horror that was made
too real to them. But feeling is a strange
and living thing. It claims its right to have
its own existence.
Invisible it seems, and yet,
a prime ingredient of all relation. Effective,
even held within a silent state of never want
to be. Yet still, emotion is the feel of all we are.
And so, warriors return, and try to settle down;
thinking that they've left the war behind
and far away. Delayed, the tactics still
deceive the lives of all they know. Secretly,
beyond his will, his touch becomes the feel
of war untold.
Too few are they who know
the truth of this -
war is infectious. Less than germs, yet
more than air - traumas of emotion filter
into every living form within the atmosphere.
Great emotion can't be held in only one or two,
for it builds into a great, explosive attitude
that refuses to be left in ignorance.
Yours or mine, or theirs or
ours - the difference
was a great divide. Too much here, then force
it over there. Yet man found ways to
close the gap, of even that - by bridging it,
and binding it to earth. Go off to war and
come back home - the essence of the battle
zone will come back home with you.
And your life will never be
the same again.
For every new experience will draw some
strength from all that came before - and
war, for too long left without expression,
conquers both the victims and the victory...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2002, Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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