Midnight

you've had these nights too,
burrowed down into unkindly wrinkled sheets
trying to forget that tomorrow
you will be a soldier again
in an invisible war.

i'm in the middle of one of those now
in combat with a fear
of the unknown future.
i don't want a soft song,
i don't need a loving word
i don't need a story and a glass
of warm milk:
i need a coming victory & an assurance of valor in combat.

I know I’m not alone. you've had these nights too,
hungering for violence & the rage of battle—
wishing there was just enough light to glimpse the whites of their eyes;
nights where you crave an external reality
as sincere & bloody as the one contained within you.

i’ve tried ignoring the bugles and counting sheep.
i’ve turned off the lights & torn down the red banners.
i’ve unbuckled my sword & propped my shield against the bed
but the battle goes on
& the pain goes on
& the fear of the unknown goes on and on and on

and right at the breaking point,
when all hope seems lost & I’m filled with deserter-longings;
at that deceptive crossroads
where Christianity intersects with insomnia
My commander speaks quietly
and reminds: it’s the invisible things that make soldiering worthwhile:
love & hope & the resurrection of the dead.

I hope you’ve had these nights too