He has an idea in his head
An idea that he knows the Truth
An idea that God believes in him
An idea the rest of us can never understand.
These ideas sleep perfectly well
Inside his tiny, couching world
And we with all our wisdom
Cannot break the silence in his mind
The cold knock of anger in his heart
We cannot win a battle we were
Never meant to wage
And yet we must enjoin
With all the courage of our
Ancient love.
And through this love, conquer
Even death, so idly taken
Cannot stop the pulse of dreams
The suns of our tomorrows
Yet rising, ever boldly
The soul of human be
Intact.
(Previously published in Wired Art from Wired Hearts, July 2002; The Odeum,2002)
Laurence Overmire
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/book-and-rifle/
