PERCEPTION – REFLECTION Published (inserted - For Love of Country - Military Policewoman)

I walk alone along the treacherous road, Shadows, small wiggling forms appear behind an invisible wall. I continue along the dirt path, Level at this point of time, easing My tired soul. Rows of people drift by me in opposite directions, each reminding me of someone I have known or seen. Some are maimed, I will not use the word Mutilated For it is not proper… Some are missing entire limbs, Lost at war By people different than they and yet the same. I see people of every color who think they are so different from each other; they fail to see that they are the same. Men, women, and children file Past me in one last unison. Differences no longer acknowledged. I see the shadows growing smaller, no longer wiggling, but still and forever quiet. The road becomes larger And forms into a steep hill, I must Once again climb. I reach up to find the Staff to assist my climb. This once again eases my burden. I throw it away too easily when my body feels it is not required. But, my soul Forever searches… I look once again at the people Some have staffs and others don’t. Some are reaching into empty air. They do not realize that there is only one enormous staff, Its rationale is not of this world, This time. The small dark shadows from behind the wall are quiet and still; All seems serene but BLOOD climbs the invisible wall and the shadows Cannot be seen. The rows of people continue to drift by oblivious of each other And of the tiny shadows climbing from the blood. I do not think as I observe I do not realize That on my road I am alone except for my staff, which I may keep or throw away but it, is constant. The road narrows as I Acknowledge my descent. The sun beats heavily, yet the birds remain silent. My lips are parched, My own fault For being silent for it was not proper. I see the rare man reaching out to the wall More often a woman In regret For the TINIEST of Lost souls Who could not speak. I walk alone along this treacherous road Different mates all long gone by And mates not mine, fallen from Their side Childless days; yet embracing them all. I stop and… Look behind me. I see four legged, creatures and also two, sometime three, And am reminded that I’ve never been truly alone. My faithful beasts I too have loved, And they with an affection and intelligence Long under-minded, too often ignored and others worse. These creatures behind me, yet pushing me along With warmth alone, Staffs perched on each one.