Moments pass.

Sighs of relief,

Groans of concern.

Light through a high window

reveals the floor, the furniture, the boundaries of the room.

Can you see the light?

Do you see the room?

We are on a campaign

We often march all day

Our arms, we bear in faith

Confident in their strength, their potential ... our strength

For a man wielding arms

needs discipline and virtue

No aim is true, but for the journey that precedes

the pulling of the trigger

And when the news is all flame

imagery, illusion, decoy

And when information shapes

where you look

what you see

Then the weapon is your mind

And the aim is your heart.

As you ride the day and night

As you breathe the fumes of war

Be true to inner sight

Give praise to the one that holds you steady

And fire.