The Forgotten Warrior

She plies the skies

For enemy eyes

Always alert

Always ready.

Her Falcon's talons

Ready to strike

At mach 2.

Warrior princess

She is the almost

Forgotten warrior.

History

Not her story

Has tried to erase

The lives of the great female knights.

She joins the ranks

Marches stride in stride

With sisters who have gone before.

Like Queen Tamar,

Zenobia and her daughters,

Who held the mighty Romans at bay.

Joan D'Arc

and Ahhotep,

Warrior Queen of the Nile.

Fu Hao

The priestess general.

And the cunning Artemisia.

And many more,

Who passed the sword

Like a gift from Ishtar,

Of Love and war,

Or from Athena

Athens Protector,

Kali,

The Creator and destroyer of worlds.

Worlds without end,

Worlds full of men,
Killing one another.

It is only in the divine feminine warrior,
That we find the mixed blessings,
Of love and strength,
Creation and destruction.

Her fierce nature
Roots both her passion
And her protection.

She is channeled,
To another place,
Another time,
Her passion,
Love,
Strength,
Ferocity,
Are called upon,
By the nature of another woman,
Thousands of miles from home.

Don't ask
Don't tell.

Out in the jungle

A warrior cries,

Struck down in his prime,

By bullets strafing in wild lines.

He holds hopelessly to his guts

Now worthless.

The pain subsiding,

The endorphins lulling him into a

warm

wet
 sleep.

The pain in his mind

About to also be dispensed,

The rapid crunching of the foliage

Approaching,

Disturbing sweet impending darkness.

It's too late,

He knows,

Whether friend or foe.

He looks up into the tear-stricken eyes

Of a friend.

“Oh my God,”

His friend cries.

“You'll be okay.

Medic! Stat!”

And gathers the fallen warrior in his arms.

“Shhhh.

It's too late for me.

But please one thing before I die.”

“Anything, dear friend of mine.”

“Call me Judy one more time.”