I received this a little while ago from the parents of a 3/3 Marine in response to the loss of the 2 Marines in May.
you will never again see the dancing light of a morning sun or the soft, shimmering beams of a quarter moon.
nor will you feel the moist grass liquid on bare feet.
you will not inhale with eyes tight shut the sweet fragrance of grasses freshly cut...
your perpetual winter has begun and a sightless ebony blinds you as life no longer allows you to participate with joy and easy laughter.
dirt on wood with lonely stone sentinels overhead announces in stark relief a birth, a death and very little in between...
your rueful, crooked smiles stare silently at me as i walk in your garden of stones wondering what untold stories lie sleeping under this mantle of soft, brown earth that caresses the soles of my canvas shoes and the leather of this hardened heart.
i am humbled by your sacrifices as this uncomfortable walk ends and i sit with my back to an aging oak staring at the field of green that houses your shields of white stone. i seek your presence and can only hope that should i ascend to heaven's gate my request to enter will not be denied by the ever vigilant guards of honor