Musing

today’s Musing written and published from south Calgary, near Fish Creek Park

-2C/46F, no breeze, no critters; Gusta, in season, happy to spread her scent and wait for prospects; clouds hide sun, we walked an empty street - could be any free safe place where risk of death or maiming is actuarially non-existent

through 55,000 years on this planet mankind has learned to make war very well, but we need to make peace before it can be kept, if we have a future on this planet worth having; most of us have little to say, can do little – are relatively helpless to change it, but if we don’t, who will?

this day - I take freedom and safety for granted, it is normal, it is expected, we call it a way of life; this day is hard to grasp for those of us who recount our memory in terms of reading about war, seeing war TV, appreciating Canadians at war but not knowing any who’ve fought – so very few of us have personal encounters with war’s tragedy

this day – we remember those who did, those who are still – fought for freedom, fighting to save others from tyranny; men and women wearing our flag and uniform proudly, risking it all for someone’s freedom somewhere, prepared to be remembered by a cross on some battlefield somewhere, by some poppy on a lapel somewhere, by some memory of courage spent and blood spilt

this day - we are a desensitized collection of countries, competing economies, conflicted interests – surely no one on this planet wants their children to die, no societies on this planet want other than to be left alone to achieve what they can achieve

this day - war is a series of newsclips and headlines - over time, day over day, numbness sets in; too much, too much, too much of what we ought to appreciate about war is lost somewhere between political rhetoric and CNN station breaks; Myanmar and Pakistan conflicts rise and fall, Tiananmen Square-like events repeat on the 6 o’clock news

In Flanders Fields , By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) , Canadian Army

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow

Between the crosses row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.

this day – these immortal lines will be repeated and re-read; he wrote them and tossed it away, he wrote them for his friend who died that day before, he wrote them in the moment - then he went back to tending wounded in his care

this day – as Canadians remember that poppies blow, between the crosses row on row – heads bowed, eyes sad, Last Post played, wreaths set out, salutes - mark the time across this land - at 11:11 on 11/11 most of us will give thanks to whoever we thank at times like this, that our family or friends are not out there in harm’s way - as we revere and remember those who fell long ago as well as those who stand a post - this day

Mark Kolke
340,548
196.8