“The Spoils Of War”

Awoke, I did, this morning time,
And lay there thinking, “I’m quite fine,
But more aware of spoils of war
Than any time in life before”.

The “Spoils” of war? How could that be?
Is that not loot the soldiers seize?
Well, maybe for some other folk,
But not for me – as I awoke.

To me the “Spoils of kitchen” are
Some food too long in open jar;
Some knife-edge slipped with aim at fault;
Some cookies burnt; or too much salt.

I wrecked the dinner two days back –
Used broth too long in freezer – lacked
That surety of pleasant smell;
I chucked it out – my nose could tell.

Sometimes it’s just a taint from food
Like onions – cutting block of wood
Then used to cut more subtle taste –
And out it goes as kitchen waste.

But this smell said, “I’m dangerous,
A danger not superfluous;
It’s best you heed deep instinct now;
More safety margin here allow”.

That’s more “The spoils of war” I mean –
“Unpleasantness” is not what’s seen;
More “Danger”; “Wrecked beyond repair”;
And “Wound which Paralympics dare –

To flaunt as obstacle to life,
Up-taken in their daily fight,
Once they’ve accepted as the course
Their lives would take, with summoned force.

And “War”? In what way spoils of “War”?
Why, needless smashing, done before
A person, group, or nation-state
Grows into “Talk”, “Stand down”, and “Wait”.

Thus “Spoils of war” is what I know
From life myself, and those who go
About their lives in quiet trust
That life works out – for so it must.

No, maybe not for all of us,
For millions die in war-time fuss;
But most do not, life just goes on,
Oblivious to things gone wrong.

So Lord, as I do this new day,
Some faces come to mind – I’d say
There’s lots who fit that “Spoils of war”
Description – those, I’m praying for.

Thanks Lord for this.

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