home from war

I'm told there's a Tarot card that shows a man in a field about to plant a crop. Legend has it he is a soldier just home from war. Victorious he has been given a bag of seeds to plant as his reward. With the shadow of death on his face,  he searches alone for his field, the place he will settle and begin to cultivate his crop; the place he will make a living despite everything he knows about death and destruction.

Since Tad's memorial where people came together and shared loving stories of his life my brain races with thoughts. Most of them give voice to the broken heart of that soldier:

"How is it possible I am still alive?! How can it be that kind loving people were killed in this battle and that I am left here to take in the beauty of the world!? How dare the Gods! "

"What kind of victory is this? I am left here alone with a few belongings and my memories. This is my reward? There was far more reward in fighting battles even if we lost one or two. Even if there is no more reason to fight."

"How can I possibly sit still when I have seen such horrors? I want to scream out at the inequities, the inefficiencies, the incompetencies I've seen. I want to warn the world of what's happening around them. I've seen the inside of a powerful ugly machine and it needs transformation."

"Who am I now that I am not a soldier? How can I sit and do something as mundane as planting seeds after I've visited the depths of pain and the heights of hope? How can I possibly find solace in something as simple as a seed when just moments ago I was saving a fellow soldier? Why wouldn't I prefer to be fighting other fights or simply numbing my brain with drink and food and sex so the excruciating scenes lingering there have less of a sting?"

"How can I know what I need from a field? They all seem appealing and yet none of them does. This one is near a city with the distractions of bright lights, money and power plays. That one is far from the crowd with the painfully beautiful silence of soothing trees and waterfalls. There is another in a completely different kingdom where the people speak another language and fight for different causes. I could go there."

"But I don't want to plant seeds. I don't want to grow a crop to have an income. I don't want to think about the future. I want one thing: to return to the battle field and lie down next to my beloved friend. I want to hold his head in my hands and breathe life into his lungs. I want to feel his heart beat one more time beneath my hand. I want to see his eyes flutter so I may catch one more glimpse of their green depths. I want to hear his laughter bubble up from some unknown place reminding me that the pain, the loss and the devastation were all worth it."

"I want to lie down beside him in the mud with my eyes closed while the wind covers us with Autumn leaves. I will lie perfectly still and no one will ask anything of me. My body will rest, my heart will mend and the dark memories will lose their poison. I will sleep through the long nights of Winter til Spring arrives and the crocuses and jonquils gently nudge me awake."