Visions

These Honored Dead

I think of them betimes:
the price in blood
that soldiers paid
to keep us free,
Duty, Honor, Country.
I think of others too,
mothers starving to feed
their hungry children,
keeping long, lonely
watches in the night,
over an ailing child.
A father toiling, sacrificing
to care for his wife and children,
striving to bring them up
in the right way.
So many people performing
thankless tasks to make a better world,
rewarded only in Heaven
by our loving God who sees all!
All those who have no memorial
save in the hearts of loved ones
who mourn their passing,
long for the sound of a voice,
the touch of a vanished hand,
a kiss, a warm embrace.
All those actions
of the just, geniuses at doing good,
the redeemed of God,
their deeds like seed
sown upon fertile ground,
blossoming in the dust,
inspiring others,
smelling sweet in
the nostrils of the Lord,
like a precious perfume,
the sweet odor of sanctity!




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These Honored Dead

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