The Vision – The Angel of Mons

 

They came, each summoned by the clarion call
That hereafter might yet become their tolling bell of effigy.
Each had come to defend freedom, a hope, a cause...
A country, threatened by evil catastrophe.   

Were we never so strong, never so vulnerable, never so unprepared? 
And yet, gladly we fought.  But at what cost, for what gain and at what price?
Every soldier’s wounded soul, made whole only by healing messages of love –
The muted hopes and dreams of dear ones left at home.  

Obliteration, annihilation - war - call it what you will. 
Fighting for glory - a barbed-wire crown?  

And yet - many have trod this path,
Not knowing to what victory they aspired.

Our song of triumph deadened in the lingering mists of battlefield agony.
Never to be repeated? 

Did a vision once inspire us? 
Had God been on our side?  

Were there shining angels there to sound our victory? 
Or was it just a mirage, as the new day dawned at last?

Peter Summers