Harsh splinters grind between black teeth
A deathly sentiment hovers beneath
My enemy bites at me with a word
I’m struck down, fallen, like a bird
With the rush, with the thump, of a hollow thud
In the dust, my red blood makes bright mud
I wait helpless as a stunned sparrow
When fierce death comes to harrow
Where is He who truly sees all
That One who cares every time I fall?
Noble warrior renowned
Listen to this harrowing sound
Draining cries of earth’s deep sorrow
We will live to see the morrow?
Life is leaking from a crack
Faceless death will now attack
Who has left us silent here?
What foe won’t visibly appear?
We know not who or why we fight
Though we press on in this bleak night
O! That gray would fade from sight
And black be black and white be white!
If you don’t know how faith is found
Then watch this sparrow hit the ground
And listen for the whispered voice
And wait to see Him give me choice
To choose my way to death or life
To pick a path of joy or strife
He forces not the best on me
Nor scorns my fall for all to see
His hand is still beneath my form
Waiting to shelter me in the storm
these knees are crying
red sticky tears
from bearing the brunt
of so many falls
rocks and dirt
beneath tender skin
becoming part of a scab
someday
that scab
will grow into a scar
and then
sleek whiteness
will be peppered
with even paler
tiny mountains
and valleys
ridges and bumps
hills
snow-covered hills
that tell the tale
of bloody congealing droplets
The Wisdom of Gavroche 