He stands
at the edge of the wood.
at the last bastion of comfort,
for as he gazes back across the meadow,
and beyond the gently flowing creek,
he sees his home and his family within,
and the village of common folk.

ahead is the wood and the battle yet fought.
The battle within is greater still,
for fear is a mighty foe,
that conquers the soul unto death,
and lessens the man his truth.
Robbing the world of freedoms quest.

Behind him lies the known and true.
Ahead lies the unknown battle cry.

The woods are deep and dark beyond,
so he kneels in humble need,
and knows the Grace of choice to make.
To go the way of courage found.

One step is made toward the wood,
for prayer thus said in face of fear,
makes of a man his own true heart.
To know he is of freedoms dream,
To fight and win his soul,
that those behind may ever dwell
in Peace for courage sake.

I wrote this poem for my son, John. He is a 2nd Lt
in the US Army and was just shipped to the Middle
East. I ask your prayers for his safety.