Soldier's Meditation

 Dear Reader,

Wolf Moon

 

 

Dear Reader,

According to the Old Farmer's Almanac the January full moon was named the 'Wolf Moon" because "wolves were more often heard howling at this time".   It was traditionally believed that wolves howled due to hunger during winter, but we know today that wolves howl for other reasons.

Native American tribes also referred to this moon as The Freeze up Moon, Hard Moon or Centre Moon, marking the deep winter season.

It is said that the Wolf Moon enhances intuition and emotional awareness. For New Beginnings:  It marks a time for setting intentions and embracing change. For Inner Strength: This lunar phase symbolizes personal power and resilience.  For Emotional Healing:  The Cancer influence promotes nurturing and self care.

The Bible says as you observe the Wolf Moon let it inspire you to cultivate a deeper connection with God, your community and your own spiritual path.  Embrace the transformation it symbolizes and trust in the intuition God has placed within you.

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As is my wont I was making a cup of tea at 3am on Saturday night when I saw the Wolf Moon.  It looked so beautiful but icy cold.  I am glad I was up to see it.

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From Richard Hayes   January 11th 1765   in Kent 

'Brisk wind but quite warm.  Song thrush pipes away as though an April morn.' 

 

From Francis Kilvert   January 12th  1873  in Wiltshire

'When I came out the night was superb.   The sky was cloudless, the moon rode high and full in the deep blue vault and the evening star blazed in the west.  the air was filled with the tolling and chiming of bells from St Paul's and Chippenham old church.......I walked up and down the drive several times before I could make up my mind to leave the wonderful beauty of the night and go indoors'.

 

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Soldier’s Meditation

 

 

 

 

My cigarette time-burns,

my body trembles,

only minutes now

until the action starts.

 

Am I brave?   no, not brave

I am shit-scared,

my body reeks.

The last drop of whisky

wets my parched lips.

I light another cigarette.

 

I hold this gun to hide behind.

With it, I will aim and slaughter

someone unknown, someone’s son,

mother, father, daughter.

 

 

If killed, I want no part in bands playing,

or speeches glorifying my sacrifice.

I want no weeping, seen or unseen,

pitying those who were,

those who had been.

 

Go, action, ready, time to start.

Dear God, do leaden wings always fly

a universal soldier’s heart?

 

 

 

                                                                                                         *

I have been thinking about the soldiers fighting in Ukraine this week and thought this poem pertinent.

   

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With very best wishes,  Patricia