When I’m Reading
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“When I’m Reading,” New Era, Aug. 1993, 20–21

When I’m Reading

Sometimes I see them

marching through desert,

their brown legs dusted

with soft spots of sand

and still summer silence,

marching to the beat of an

anxious heart, saving the sacred

oath of a father.

I watch them.

Sun-rinsed hair whips gently

through a midday breeze,

shielding innocent eyes,

searching eyes that see

ahead to the God who will

deliver them.

Sometimes I hear their

salty fingers wrap still

around a heavy bow.

Silent footsteps brush warm

against the earth.

I listen

to the quiet clap of

praying hands pressed

tightly toward heaven

and sandy lips sending

songs of praise

to their Savior,

firm in the faith

taught them by a mother.

I know them.

Two thousand chosen brothers

called to save His children

by the voice of a prophet.

Photos by Holly Ann Alldredge