“I need a band of a thousand”
“Warriors, healers and believers”
“Unite as one”
“She is in receiver”
Pointing to a small heap in the bed
“It is here, you are called!”
“It is here, you are led!”
A slight movement under the blanket
Catches a Warrior’s eye
Astounded such an army was called
For something so frail and so small
Sensing the Warriors doubt
The Leader stormed in anger
A black cloud came into the room
Thundering and hailing with doom
“You dare to question my command?”
“You dare to have any doubt?”
“You have been called to duty”
“Do as you’re told, or get out!”
The warrior once stood proud and tall
Seemed to shrink under command
Embarrassed, he was, by his actions
He felt he had just been damned
They gathered around the bed
A circle with no end
A small frightened woman lay
Her life, they had to mend
On bended knee, they begin to pray
The Commander held her hand
Anointing with her with olive oil
And a blessing from each man
A power came inside the room
It was strong and healing
But floated like a butterfly
Regardless of the feeling
Softly, it kissed her on the lips
Then floated around the bed
Colors of the butterfly
Dusting her body and head
The warriors voices rang
In unison they prayed
Butterfly dust sprinkled the bed
Quietly she lay
The troop left as if one
The butterfly went away
The frail lady went to sleep
Smiling where she lay
Renee Robinson
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Nae's Nest 