We are Frail and Afraid

"We sleep safely in our beds at night because of violent deeds done on our behalf."

This sums the struggle
the contradiction
of the human condition.

It is noble to serve
and terrible to kill.
If we must kill to thrive
and some part of us dies when we kill
what is it that is defended by might?
Some say a shell
no longer in the image of God.
I do not believe this.

I do not believe that war
even a just war
is for a whole soul
it fragments the spirit
and distances us for a moment from God

I do not believe that killing alienates us from God
He who knows more of death and finality than any of us
God is on both ends of the bullet
God is in the humble prayers of the pacifist
But there is no virtue
in the killing or the death of innocence
There are tears and a humility
There is a rending of the self
at witnessing the fragile thing
that we destroy
That such finality
can reside
in these tired human hands
it is shock that such power has been put
in our the control of our finite conscience

To what end is this war we fight among our brethren
To whose vain glory shall we attribute our victory
Whom will we curse for each little defeat
Will it be God, us, a caricature of the devil

How will violence cease without equal force
and to what purpose will this force be wielded
and on whose behalf?

Assorted Concepts

My hands formed a net
They captured her breast
Like a fowler

by submitting formally
to all desires
you will fail
divorce is an expense
you can not recover

a Winchester a Colt a derringer
a gallows for the evil
a glare for the transgressive
a hug for the child of love

there was the moon so large and low on the horizon
swinging down to eye level through the trees

there was a huddle of men
and a lovely thriving coyote in the gully
hiding from me behind the sparse brush
I illuminated them all as I passed by
I paused momentarily for each in turn

there was a family
holding each other joyous
at the notion of hope
there was a shadow that passed
and may not return
the threat now dormant
or extinct