There are things I cannot understand.
This process from boy to man
and how it breaks me bitterly.
A journey chosen of strength, honor,
courage few choose.
I am the one who kissed your precious,
distorted face first.
I kissed your face first.
It levels me.
There are things you cannot understand.

Falling from your bike did not send me
into rivulets of sentiment.
Somehow I knew that pain builds
strength and you’d need it for
the next few months
and the 54 hours, but oh,
I did not know.
Just a boy.
Would I have caught your fall?

Perhaps it was some alchemy that forged
and created you for such a time as this
But the sounds of stripping gears deep
in my soul remind me
that like Samuel to Hannah,
you are on loan.
So now you face the last, hottest
of the refiner’s fire.
A crucible.
You will do what I can never do.
How it shreds me from within.
There are things I cannot understand.

You chose to stand up.
Shout the: here am I send me,
to a world that twists in wretched hatred
toward itself.
You chose to stand and watch the horizon
before the dawn
so that we might sleep.
And you will do what is necessary
so that peaceful dreams may come.

You are on the cusp of your destiny.
And when you receive that pin
The honor and distinction that you are
of a warrior breed unlike any other
Your bloody, dirty, sweaty hand
will grip it tight
tears will well in your tired, stinging eyes
and you will know
what it was like
to kiss your face first.



4 responses to “Crucible

  1. i love it. this is the hard part. this is your man.


  2. When they have children of their own they might know. But God knows. And I know my friend.


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