Night Qual

My night qual done, and I am
Still. A deep quiet within, while 
The line explodes, a pattern
More familiar than peace.

The sergeant shines his light to
Score a target, revealing art:  bullet
Holes becoming  his own 
Personal constellation. 

The pattern on the earthen
Berm behind, like fallen stars,
A poor reflection of the vast canvas
Above, backlit by the distant past.

Long ago, the stars were named
By mortals for gods and legends.
I  imagine an ancient soldier
Sharpening his sword by starlight.

Like him, we fight for empire,
But we spend our days among the
Citizens, their guardians, yet apart.
As soldiers are. Or the dogs of war.

And like them, we play rough with
Each other, sharpening our teeth,
Our swords for battle. Proving 
Our mettle, bonding as kindred.

Like them, we are creatures 
Of the now. All we need of the
The infinite is what we hold
In our hearts and our hands.

-- 12/08/2011