Winds of War
Who has seen the winds of war?
Their pacific breath sighs out
From clouds that float seductively
In the window of forever.
Bold and bracing, they whisk away
The heat of growing passion
But leave the glow of righteous strength,
Of God and truth and nation
They tickle trees in green,
Turn kaleidoscopes in fall,
Tattoo a dry brown rattle in winter.
Innocently attractive but atomically reactive
Engines of mass destruction.
But who has seen the winds in storms,
Not just their dead destruction?
Who has not heard the claim
They have a fertile function?
To cull the weak, to feed the strong,
To make the land productive.
But who has seen the winds of war?
And who has never marveled
That they're so clear and our sight so near
That we never quite see through them?