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A Soldier's Legacy |
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Life's experience is my legacy
But not of lands or gold consistency.
In my time I have seen both birth and death,
Poverty and wealth,
Honesty and dishonesty,
Good and bad philosophy,
The pure heart of charity,
The face of greed,
And the divine seed.
I've heard blatant blasphemy,
Avowed spirituality.
I've been lost,
Forsaken
Alone.
I've needed saving grace to atone.
I've seen evil selfishness,
Blatant pettiness,
Purest love.
I've felt great joy from above,
Unexcelled happiness,
Deep despair and sadness
I have looked into the face of the grim reaper,
Borne witness to the circle of life keeper.
Like our forefathers, may our children learn
To walk softly, but carry a big stick.
I offer the wisdom this lesson will return
To know when to walk with softness,
Or the big stick to pick...
For all things there is a time and season.
Living and loving in peaceful harmony with reason
For I have flown with the hawk,
Considered with the dove,
Pondered at length the Master's love.
I've pondered that Divine legacy
Of great moral integrity,
Bequeathing a fundamental honesty,
Handing down fulfilling spirituality,
Simple bravery.
This soldier's legacy is always to yourself be true.
For valued dependability must life imbue,
Instilling grand courage,
That of the world's wrong's take umbrage,
Showing patient, loving kindness,
Shored with timbers of complete trustworthiness.
I want my children in this life to be,
Fitting reflections Dear God of thee,
Goodly lives honoring,
In harmony living with loving,
Knowing right from wrong,
With joy singing,
A heavenly
Song...
In all you do exude love,
For family, friends, neighbors,
God!
Yourself...
Adhere to that Iron rod,
With love greater than wealth.
For a person can't fully others love,
Until Themselves...
They first truly learn to love.
There will come a time
In this world's rotating rhyme,
When valiant peace cannot intercede,
Cannot undo Great greed's unholy need,
The blooming Armageddon seed
Planted by wicked winds of war indeed.
The past cannot so soon be undone,
For a plethora of heritages exist under the sun.
Brave men and true must take a stand,
Draw a finite line in the sand,
Justice for all to demand.
Over that line the oppressing foe
Must never ever go...
For those leading humanity down an ignoble path
Must suffer a good right hand's righteous wrath,
A cursory epitaph of blackened death.
Then, and only then,
Is it time to pick the warrior's stick!
There will always be madmen in this world,
Malefactors with hating around them unfurled.
My child, the light of innocence around you pearled;
Brave men must rise � these evils to stop.
Honorable men must freedom's gauntlet drop,
Perverted ambitions to disrupt,
Immoral machinations to corrupt.
Some men bent on violent destruction
Will not hear your peaceful solution.
These prevaricators hold the truth not in them
For they would spread an ignominious seed,
Of unholy greed that makes good men bleed.
Ominous beasts would the world enchain,
Receive convoluted joy in others pain,
Saddle just with malcontent,
Trample truths held self evident,
Oppress nations without due consent.
Sprouting mutinies around the world will always blossom
Kidnapping the light of life to ransom,
Bolting into full scale revolt
That can be quelled only with a mighty thunderbolt.
Honor cannot suffer tyranny
So good men must strike while the iron is hot,
Or lose all good peace has wrought
By blood of patriots on battlefields bought.
With all your might
Stand always ready to fight the good fight.
Stand up for the right.
Answer the call
On which depend societies all.
Sacred freedoms with your life defend
To that life's very end.
My child, there will always be pathways to choose,
And for every choice there are dues
You must pay.
There's the easy way,
The hard way,
The fun way,
The right way,
the wrong way,
Your way,
your friend's way,
The ever popular low way,
My way or the highway.
Sometimes mid life's mortality
It takes the greatest bravery
To turn the other cheek,
To walk in the footsteps of the Master meek,
With forbearing meek and mild
Bearing simple innocence of a child.
Good men must peaceful seeds sow,
Winnowed in winds that fiercely blow,
To with pure hearts quell the greater foe,
Replacing angered hearts so peace can grow. |
By
Gary Jacobson
Copyright 1999
Listed
June 7, 2010 |
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About
Author...
In 1966-67, Gary Jacobson served with B Co
2nd/7th 1st Air Cavalry in Vietnam as a combat
infantryman and is the recipient of the Purple
Heart.
Gary, who resides in Idaho writes stories he
hopes are never forgotten, perhaps compelled by
a Vietnamese legend that says, "All poets are
full of silver threads that rise inside them as
the moon grows large." So Gary says he
writes because "It is that these silver
threads are words poking at me � I must let them
out. I must! I write for my brothers who cannot
bear to talk of what they've seen and to educate
those who haven't the foggiest idea about the
effect that the horrors of war have on
boys-next-door."
Visit Gary Jacobson's site for more information
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