A Man Named Country

 I met a man named Country on the beach at sunset tonight

That’s what he calls himself

Maybe thirty years old

But ancient sorrow 

Was hewn into his ruddy freckled face

Giving him years and years he did not ask for

Eyes as blue as the sky

Overrun with tears

As he apologized -for nothing-

You can’t apologize for this

He said he was walking this beach 

To salute his buddies lying beneath the waves

Over there, out there, he pointed- 

A place where his heart  

Was lying blown to pieces with them.

17 of them, I think he said

Soldiers, his people,

The ones he served with day in day out

But they died,

And somehow, he lived. 

No one cares

That they give everything

They come back worth nothing,

Worth nothing, not even shit to anyone.

No one understands, no one knows what he’s seen.

I asked if I could hug him

And he said yes

I held him in the tightest hug I could

While he cried and shook

And apologized and apologized and apologized

I did not want to let him go

I wanted him to know that he is valuable, important 

Worth more than any of the stupid million things this stupid world thinks are something.

I looked at him and willed with my eyes for him to know

With all my heart crying out into the moment

I squeezed his hand and said things, I don’t even know what they were

I told him I would pray for him. I had nothing to give except wanting,

Wanting him to be well, wanting him to be loved,

Wanting him to be whole, healed

Able to leave his buddies trustingly in the hands of mercy

Mercy bigger than the ocean

Whose waves crashed around us in the sunset.

And then we parted-

Three, maybe four minutes of connection

In which I hope

The Love from the heart of all creation 

Came through me somehow

The only Love I know 

That can bring hearts back from the dead.

(This is a true story that happened tonight. Can we take care of our Vets, please?)