What happened to the soldiers of the world wars?

Gnarled, bony branches reach to night skies and I

wonder what my grave might say as I crawl

into my car to go home and write

another essay before holidays

while the wind makes a sound

like missiles and the air smells like

that day both sides celebrated Christmas.

Side Note: My spirit has been in travail and intercession with the tragedies of the world this week. I penned this a couple months back and I keep circling back to existential pondering as I stand with my family, friends, and church-family who are in Ukraine. I just needed a placeholder to say, may we never become desensitized to war, suffering, or the reality of humanity’s temporality, nor the fact that, with each and every day on this earth, we are determining our eternity. Jesus, how we need You.