Nancy L. Meek

FAITH IN A FOXHOLE

How can a soldier keep his faith,
Inside his bloody trench,
When the bullet with his name engraved
Seeks him through the stench?

Memories of his former life…
When innocence was bliss
Come mocking, haunting, asking,
“What golden rule is this?!

How can a loving, caring God
Desert me in such a place
When any moment, I might die
Or lose part of my face?”

Still he prays with all his heart
Face-down in muddy sod,
“Oh, please, just let me do my time
In this place so far from God.

Then get me home, in one piece,
To those who love me dear.
Help me make it through this night,
To sleep in spite of fear.”

A voice beside him whispers,
“Who are you talking to?”
“I’m not sure,” came the answer
“Just someone I once knew.”