
Blog
Search the Blog
Categories
- 4th of July
- American flag
- Arizona
- Attenborough
- Bells of the Cascades
- Boy Scouts
- Budapest
- COLORS
- COVID
- COVID brain
- Characters
- Danube River
- Eagle Scout
- Eskimo
- European cities
- European streets
- Family
- Germany
- Good Friday
- Great Depression
- Italy
- Mailchimp
- Matthew Compton
- Mexico
- Mt. Hood
- Nature
- Nature poem
- Nature poems
- Nature's wildfires
- Nevada
- Northern Lights
- Olympics
- Oregon
- Pacific Ocean
- Pacific coast
- Poems
- Portland
- Recipe
- Relationships
- Research
- Rome
- Russia
- The Avocet
- Trillium Lake
- Turkey
- Venice glass
- Viking cruise
- WW II
- Writers in the Grove
- Writing
re-read
Antoine de Saint Exupery’s Flight to Arras.
I just read Antoine de Saint Exupery’s Flight to Arras. This French reconnaissance pilot, his navigator and gunner accept an assignment they know will give them less than one in three chances of surviving. All three know France is losing their war with Germany and that the information they gather will probably never reach the chaotic central intelligence to do any good in planning. Yet they accept with a mild, “Very good, Sir.”
St. Exupery, author of Wind, Sand and Stars, describes his thoughts during lulls from attack during the flight and how his musings allow him to grasp his connection to the long, tangled lines of refugees. Once home to base, battered but safe, the pilot walks in lonely silence unraveling the strands he has come to understand. His insights give me constructive clues as I try to understand what is happening around me now: Acceptance, brotherhood, sacrifice have come to mean little as we have lost knowing we are part of something larger than ourselves and settle for the limitations of self.
respect comes hard
respect comes hard
when money is valued
when those who gave time and health
to serve others are deemed ‘suckers’
respect comes hard
for those who do not honor the sacrifice
by those whose lives are then given
in love to care for the damaged
wind-animated stars and stripes
flying colors
awing, what a piece of cloth can say
curling, whipping upwards like a flame twisting
unfurling to full banner in the wind
silently relating history and sacrifice
pride, hope, people striving for better
extending white and red
as though to reach for freedom for all
showcasing stars, that, like celestial bodies above, shine on all below
long may it wave
mjNordgren 7/4/2022 Blue house, Lincoln City