Poem: God of Storms

A poem about waging the Christian combat as brothers.

I’m not sure how it happened that I wrote a poem inspired by Jehovah as storm-god, the triple (at least) meaning of the word storm, and the play Henry V, but here it is. May it cheer thee, brother. Be you ne’er so vile, this poem may gentle your condition. I’m glad we’re in this together.

Actually, don't read too much into the Henry V thing. This is a poem about our eternal strife right now, our war against the powers and principalities, the spirits of the air, the world, the flesh, and the devil. When there’s a break in the fighting, I’ll buy you a beer, we can talk about the good times.

God of Storms
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd

Sing into storms!
	bullets like hail
	arrows in sheets
	like sleet
	plink and thud
we steel ourselves for shield and mud.

Sing as you storm!
	fell is the foe
	but sing as you go
	crash the gates
	take the high place
fell the foe with dreadful grace.

Sing up a storm!
	a tavern song
	of bonhomie
	our manhoods long
	as were our deeds
remember when I died for thee.