A Challenge


From now until September. 23, 2005 when the “March Across America” supporting our troops culminates in Washington, D.C., I will be randomly adding tributes or thoughts. I encourage all of you to feel free to add your own. Don’t worry about size. This is for the guys and gals who have given their lives and are still out there in the “trenches” giving there all at home and abroad. I hope I get enough of you all this period to have a “Blog Caravan” tribute. So, put your comments, poems, dedications, whatever. This is from all of us to our troops and their families. Let’s show them how much they mean to us!

I originally wrote this poem last Memorial Day in memory of my nephew who was killed in Kuwait on March 5, 2004 and all our fallen troops.

“Doesn’t heaven sound like a beautiful place?”

As he looks across the huge field below,
off to the right he sees a bright rainbow;
Days of rain have washed clean the air,
and fed the grass and flowers growing there.

He gazes at row upon row of granite crosses,
a constant reminder of war’s tragic losses;
in perfect alignment they stand in formation,
brave soldiers who once guarded our nation;

As they rest here peacefully in this holy place,
He hangs his head at the shame and disgrace;
They gave their lives in defense a nation,
that now stands divided by political oration;

Then he reflects on that day in September,
The Twin Towers in New York a burning ember;
The Pentagon in Washington partially ablaze,
A plane crash in Pennsylvania saw panic for days;

On that day of tragedy and foreign invasion,
he reviewed his options and rose to the occasion,
All across America young men and women stood,
All took the oath because they felt they should;

He knew he didn’t have to join up but he did;
He felt God spoke to him and did as He bid;
Tall and proud he told his little girls goodbye,
With hugs and kisses he left with head held high;

Promise me you’ll look after my girls he said,
Tell them I love them when they go to bed;
Make sure they know Daddy didn’t want to go,
But, under the circumstances I couldn’t say no;

Remind them of the promise I made to them,
I’ll be ok and return home but don’t know when;
To say their prayers and think of me often,
He didn’t know that he’d return home in a coffin;

He wasn’t killed by a terrorist bullet or deed,
instead his fellow companion failed to heed;
in a moment of carelessness a man lost his life,
and a moments panic and fear caused great strife;

He looked at the names in this sacred place,
He read each one to himself and saw a face;
Not here in this field where he could never lay,
But in the house of his Father every day;

Though he did not die on any field of combat,
He did die serving his country, you can believe that;
Though he wanted to be with his girls and friends,
He would still have made that same decision again;

After a few more moments of silent reflection,
he forgave the circumstances of his situation;
As he did this he heard the heavenly choir sing,
That was when he knew he had done the right thing;

And as he rose to heaven with a flutter of wing,
I heard him sing:

‘Doesn’t Heaven sound like a beautiful place?
And I’m ready for the day I see his face.
Won’t be no guns,
won’t be no knives;
Hear the best preaching that
you ever heard in your lives.

[by: PO2 Michael J. Gray, killed in Kuwait, March 5,2004]’
written by devildog6771″

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~ by devildog6771 on September 12, 2005.

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