Now I’m Commander and I Quit

I’m a very good student at a military academy. We go through combat exercises, one troop against another, and our troop does excellently.

Now, I find myself in charge of my own troop. We come across one reconnaissance¬†officer from the enemy troop; my entire troop is all thumbs. I realize I needed to have been giving them orders. They didn’t know what to do.

The games are halted by the commander trainers. They are dismayed at my lack of readiness.

I lay down in my bunk. The other group of trainees have left for games. I’m tired; there is no one left in the room; maybe one other person, a girl.

I think, spitefully, “if this is just becoming a place where I am giving the orders, then all of this is bullshit. I don’t have to do this. This just isn’t for me. I’m not doing army stuff if I don’t have to.”

Precipitation

After dropping you off,
I find myself in a friendly gaze
 with God
     or The Great Mother.
I smile for a blissful moment,
 returning occasionally,
 humbler each time.
It shifts a twinge
                   down right,
   down left,
         journeying its way
   down
             the hidden pathways
  in the glass
               it clings to.

Essay on Grace

A certain inner peace,
 quite safe and pleased with herself,
 wherein there is a certain
  knowing of the world
 whereby
  wherever she alights upon the world
  that same pleasant fastidiousness
  whereupon she chuckles with herself
   she chuckles with her acquaintance
 wherewith the unknown and uncouth
  are handily known and tamed:

   a traveling tea party

Father-in-law-ly Advice

Little boy: patience,
 or, at least let yourself be.
You don’t see the angels loving you,
 the humble intricacies of your snowflake,
 the mountain you pirouette from.
I admonish you: love yourself,
 still, only if it be thine will,
 lest you deprive the least of your lovers
 of a tittle of your jot.
Nurture yourself, breathe, grow,
 should it suit you.
The bright Devil burns, still not yet God.