Tonight a song came to me, via another song that had popped up into my brain from the long ago past. I was in search of the rest of what went with this:
I said all the dead head miles and the insincere smiles.
Sometimes I can laugh and cry and I can’t remember why.
And then I got to remember this:
It was just after sunrise and down by the sea,
down on the sand flats where nothing will grow,
come drumming and footsteps like out of a dream
Where the golden green waters come in.
Just nine lucky soldiers had come through the night,
Half of them wounded and barely alive.
Just nine out of twenty was headed for home with eleven sad stories to tell.I remember quite clearly when I got out of bed,
I said, oh, good morning what a beautiful day.
– Soldiers, James Taylor
Which made me think back on the commute to work this morning where I’d wanted everyone to hear what I’d heard on the radio and cry with the parents and tell every politician that no one’s son or daughter should have to despair of what he’d seen in war. Surely we can do better in resolving the world’s issues.
Thank you to the Pilgrims for their strength in telling their story and to NPR for sharing the story of their son.
