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I wrote following poem because of a letter written
on July 14th, 1861, during the American Civil War.
Maj. Sullivan Balou, 2nd Rt.Island Volunteers, wrote
home to his wife, Sara. That letter contained some
of the words I used.
Maj. Balou was killed a week later while fighting in
the First Battle of Bull Run.
In passing memory of SaraS.C.Jones
Looking over my shoulders, with me here,
...come comrades past; friends now at last.
Stories abound, memories fading and clear
...surround me, bathe me in love, hold fast.
I've been blessed. Their blessing gives cure
...to all my troubled existence, to all of us.
They've not come to curse or trouble me.
They've come so I might convey more pure.
The message which they pass to you is sincere.
These spirits in form yet unknown; unseen,
...are always here, always have been friend.
They watch over us, cradle us; they hear.
When hearts expand, when soul exudes;
...when we open to them, they are here.
They've never left us. They never will.
In memories we know. From this eludes,
...a higher calling, bliss unimaginable now.
They come to me because I give them life
...and in return, life is what I have from them.
I won't explain further this. I know not how.
Yet that is not what matters for then it cages.
The message they bring is theirs to give.
I only form the vessel from which it pours.
The song they sing is a song of, and for, all ages.
They've sung it for, as far as I know, forever.
They will sing it forever still. Rejoice, my friend.
Worry not. Life here is short. This they send.
Their message of love is for ever and ever.
They are here with you now, by your side.
They are with you in the brightest day,
...and they are with you in the darkest night.
In your mind, in your heart, they reside.
...and when the soft breeze fans your cheek,
..................................it shall be their breath.
...and when the cool air is at your throbbing temple,
.........................it shall be their spirit passing by.
...while they say: Friend, do not morn me dead.
...Think I am gone, and wait for me,
................for we shall meet again.
And while I write these thoughts, a past letter,
...they convey the thoughts and knowledge better.
Looking over my shoulders, with me here, they see
...that I have passed here now to you, my friend.
_______________So be_________________
Be as free and loving as your spirit was made.
Open your heart. Give your life joy and meaning.
Fill your days with Rejoicing - fill them full,
...and when there, your days are gone, here, you too,
.........................will never fade.
S.C.Jones
Comments welcome.
All contents copyright (C) 1996, S.C.Jones
All rights reserved.
Revised: February 7, 1997
URL: http://www.oocities.org/Athens/Acropolis/1915/
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