In deep time, a soldier,
in desert fatigues and combat boots,
hesitates at the cross roads.
Holding the line against evil,
she weighs her choices in the balance.
Voices lift in song, laments rise in cold warning.
Poets cross the line
and are stoned at the crossroads.
Dissent is silenced and answered.
Soldiers and poets know the enormity of war,
and women also know the subsequent failure
of a refusal to hear the clamour
an eagerness to avert the gaze,
when the world takes its battles to the desert.
In this historical moment,
glittering and destructive,
when the world makes war on children
in Kabul and Kandahar,
when the fire comes,
as the hopes of children die,
as the laments of women
wash us in regret and shame,
as the warlords of the West
spin their righteous defiance,
soldiers of the fire subvert poetry to war.
in response to: Jo-Ann Hnatiuk, Medevac Nurse
© Sandra Renew 2014, all rights reserved.