Red Dawns the Day

I often dream representations of my own life, but often it is personified. I believe this dream was a representation of my time working with youth during the height of what be reflected in the #ChurchToo movement. At the time, I was not aware of the silent evils the kids in my charge were facing. As a female in a field dominated by males, I often was expected to be quiet because I was not as gifted as they were. This has haunted me for years, and this dream/poem is a result of that haunting.

Red Dawns the Day

Red dawns the day

That this, my life, will change.

Not so with those who follow

Not yet touched by age.

Their faces so eager in their

Readiness to slay the beast.

Yet how many will disappear

And their young hearts cease?

I look at myself

in broken glass

I wonder how many more days

Must this crusade last?

Who will we lose,

who will suffer heart’s bruise?

What friend may fall

So that the chosen few

have any chance at all?

My face is old

beyond my years.

And my eyes blackened

By unshed tears

Shoulders too small

to bear a heavy weight

Pinch close together

To stand erect and straight.

I walk outside

into the glaring light.

Wishing the day was done

And I could slumber in the night.

Friends so ready to follow

Wherever I shall lead.

My heart sinks at the futility

Within the soul of me.

I mount my horse with my

Companions to the left and right.

Never asking questions, only trusting,

Ready to die in the fight.

We move toward the enemy

Who swarm over the hill

Writhing, crawling

Ready for their easy kill.

We reached the final

point of no return

And I stepped to earth

As my heart burned.

I drove my sword deep

Into the unloving land

And raised my face toward heaven

Begging to understand.

“Why have you left us

At the mercy of death?

Why do I lead your people

In silence and alone?

How far will you take me

From my distant home?”

And I heard a voice say:

“Your day is not done,

Your course is not run.

The foe still stalks the land

And the victory still is

To be won.”

We raised the cry

And plunged into the throng.

And bravely each man fought

All the day long

Evil came at us from

the left and right.

Each face covering the day

And bringing the terror

Of night.

Blinding heat

Pierces my skin

And colors of hell

Burst from within.

Hot steel in my side

Pierces flesh and bone

I close my eyes and stray

Into the unwanted fear

Of dying on my own.

But he is there again

Offering his bloodied hand.

“Come my child,” said he.

“The battle is not yet won.”

His eyes locked with mine

And mine lowered under his.

“Have I not bled for you?

Been pierced for your sake?

What battle could you ever lose

What heart could ever break?

Victory is already won.

My child, what could you do

That I have not already done?”

He pulled me to my feet

And placed the sword in my hand

And sun of wisdom shone on me

As I began to understand.

In that moment

The battle was done.

For in my faith, I saw

That the battle had always been won.

My comrades carried me

Towards happiness and home.

And as I slept on their shoulders

I basked in what had been shown.

To know that I was chosen

To be the one.

To know the task was finished

before it had begun.

And so, the red day ended

With joy and revelry

As each child danced toward

A new destiny.

And I, their guide

Knew I had passed the test

For I was going home

Where I could at long last find rest.