Eve of Battle

The generalship of peace is left
to those who can't control it.
On any given day
its forces
are in utter disarray
each captain thinking only of its unit
and communications are usually down.
Even now they are all sleeping
on the eve of one great battle
in the year's campaign.
Who guards these quiet camps?
There are no sentinels,
so certainly now the enemy could rush in.
But they are surrounded by a silent field of stars
and nothing now will wake them
till the sun's rise sounds their reveille.
And will they meet the charge?
Anger, pride, hypocrisy
the adversary flings
to burst among their ranks,
and from the cynical deceiver
no mercy is expected.
And will they meet the charge,
this weak battalion? Will gentle weapons
grasped in honorable hands
suffice to meet the charge?
Wait the morning, let it come;
let all the sleepers rise
and with life's desperate persistence
make ready to defend the hearts
they're sworn to celebrate in love
and let them meet the charge.

December 25 2011