Greetings Dear Reader,
Sometimes I will end the day with thoughts that are
important to get out. Usually I just
write them and put them in my journal folder.
I have chosen that on occasion I will share them with you Dear Reader.
As I ponder Independence Day weekend I ponder the many
things that it includes. My freedom is
bought on many levels at many prices. I
want to ponder for a moment an image of that price. I want you to walk with me in someone else’s
shoes Dear Reader.
The men of my clan hate war.
W\e also understand that our freedom has been purchased with a
price. Please note that my use of the
pronoun “he” is intended to leave out anyone of either gender. Rather it is used as the OED lists it under a
pronoun denoting a human being. If this
offends you I would remind you that I am the author and my intent has precedence
over other possible assignations of meaning no matter what the intent. Please Dear Reader, ponder with me.
The Boots – July 4,
2016
He is wearing shoes.
They are the kind that go with his long hair and unshaven
face.
He sees something that touches him deeply.
He enlists.
Now he is wearing boots.
They are his boots.
There are other boots like his boots but these are his
boots.
He trains in these boots.
He runs in these boots.
They take on the character of his feet, his walking habits,
and his foot strike.
They are his boots and he wears them all through basic
training.
He walks onto the tarmac in these boots.
He takes a step off of the soil of his homeland in these
boots.
He steps onto the troop transport in his boots that are like
so many others.
They are like the others but they are his.
He arrives in the desert in his boots.
They protect him from the sand.
The boots get hot at times.
They are dry and require care.
He cares for the boots that carry him on patrol.
He cares for the boots that carry him through the fight.
Deep in the crevice between the leather and the sole is a
dry piece of the soil from the camp where he trained.
Unknown to him he carries with him the homeland he defends.
He lays his life on the line for the soil from which he
comes.
The boots carry him and his homeland through the desert.
It does not matter how it happens.
The desert claims him.
His life is forfeit for the home soil.
He dies with the boots on that were his boots.
His boots looked like so many others but they were his.
He will return to that soil now.
He will not stand on it ever again.
He will not enjoy the freedom it offers.
He will not step on the land he protected ever again.
He will return to the soil,
The soil he left behind,
The soil he carried in his boot unknown,
He will be placed beneath it in the garden of defenders
He stepped off his home soil to defend it,
For those who live on it,
And he lies beneath it,
But his boots will never again walk on it.
Thank you…
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer
who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home
owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store.”
(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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