July Morning

July Morning

(by R.P.Edwards)

Morning stillness

No pressing care

Before the bombs

That burst in air

Before parades

And marching bands

Before the speeches

Great...and grand

Before the fires

Feasting fare

Before the sportsmen

Leave their lair 

In morning's stillness

I recall

That freedom's price

Was simply...all

Worked the midnight shift last night and, though I wasn't thinking of posting today, as I rode my two-wheeler down the quite streets of "anytown" USA, I took note of how still it was.  Aside from the little traffic due to the holiday, even the air seemed hushed, almost reverent.  And I thought to myself, "This peaceful pause came with a price. A very expensive coin, indeed."  And then, in a segue to current events, I thought of how our "freedoms"--those God-given tangibles--are being slowly (and sometimes not-so) whittled and belittled by the seed of man, and I wondered if "this" generation; "this" band of flag-wavers--after going through the motions (as do we all) of partying patriots--I wondered if "we the people" would be willing to stand once more and say to the tyrants we have allowed, "Not one step further!" And then, having stopped the advance, to push our spawn back into its hiding place.

So, am I speaking of Revolution? No...and yes.  No...not with bomb and blast, but Yes...to ballots cast.  For, although our "today remembered" founders pledged their lives and sacred honor to sever the King's oppressive tether, we, the beneficiaries of their sacrifice, need merely join our wills on election day. And, if we do; if we dare stand and demand...and then, through victory, command; then we can again let freedom's lungs fill unfettered and wings fully unfurl and, with our dreams firmly attached, we can then let this great eagle take us to new unimaginable heights. And, having done so, and with the aid of Divine Providence, perhaps then many more fourths...will come forth.  Yes, many more Independence Days where the reverent morning stillness speaks again; ever again...of patriot's blood.

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A song of remembrance: The Stone