Footsteps fall in even measure
Every day and every night
What is guarded must be treasure
To inspire this solemn rite
Every movement is perfected
Every motion, every stride
What could warrant such devotion
What would make it justified?
Here was never buried treasure
Such as some might so esteem
Nothing but a fallen soldier
Nameless dust, or so it seems
Is it only vain and empty
To remember what is gone
Has he no inherent value
Is this rite a kind of wrong?
No, there is a deeper reason
Every drop of human blood
Every anguished cry of sorrow
Moves the loving heart of God
Others may not care or notice
Fools will never understand
Faithfulness reflects the heart of
Him who guards the heart of man
Vic Lortz
5/29/2010
[A meditation on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier]