(I served with Mo, Doc, Medina from 2005 to 2006. We had been roommates in Iraq and when our chow hall was bombed we had been walking together to grab lunch. That was the day we thanked our lucky stars and mourned the loss of many. Times like those create deep introspective souls. - jin)
Quite Peace - by Doc Medina,
December 25th 1998
|sketch by Medina|
He stood alone in a dimly lit room
staring out of an open window.
In the foreground the branches of a tree
made bare by the winter chill.
In the distance a snowy German landscape at dusk,
though he knew there was a castle on a hill,
on the horizon the clouds had hidden it from view.
Aside from the snow on the red rooftops there was not much to admire,
yet, this view brought a peaceful stillness to his soul.
The barracks were almost empty.
Most soldiers had gone on leave and the ones who stayed
were out having a holiday meal.
He had made it a point to stay away from everyone today.
Eating a frozen pizza pocket for dinner,
he wanted to avoid any casual conversations or holiday greetings.
He couldn't even remember calling home today,
rewarded by a few minutes of silence and absolute quiet in his soul.
What was this?
In the moment, nothing was and nothing had ever been.
He closed the windows and went to bed - in the quiet and peaceful of his soul.
|sketch by Medina|
He sat on the wooden steps of a C-hut holding a lit Romeo and Julieta cigarrillo.
The winter chill brought a familiar stillness to the air.
Once again he experienced what would be a quiet melancholy,
if it wasn't for the absence of emotion - in the quiet and peaceful of his soul.
A moment in time when his world moved in slow motion
if it didn't come to a complete stop in the quietness of his peaceful soul.
Bewildered by these amazing moments of perfect peace
he allowed his soul to soak it in.
|Mosul, Iraq, 2005 - Medina (right).|
The stryker ramp dropped revealing a surreal scene of chaos.
To the right Recon soldiers attempted to put out the fire from a detonated car bomb.
In the smoke filled streets, families brought their wounded children out to receive aid.
In this hectic he felt that quiet stillness again,
everything began to move in slow motion
and even the screaming of those wounded children were almost inaudible.
He was trained well, bandaged adults and children on auto pilot.
It was not a cold day,
but his blood ran cold as it did on those peaceful winter days.
All was well.
Just when things seemed possible,
he was handed a small girl warped in a bloody blanket.
The blast had taken a large portion of her back completely away.
All the quiet moments of peace and quiet stillness from his soul would not undo this moment of reality.
Yet, the quietness of his soul were the only thing that kept him from breaking.
|canvas by Medina|
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