When My Weapons Were Taken Away

When My Weapons Were Taken Away

Jean Biegun

When my weapons were taken away,
the secret ones hidden under faded scars,
and those that patrolled muddy creeks
poised to spear beached survivors of hope …

when the weapons finally softened and wafted off
like dandelion tufts lifted skyward
by a young breeze …

and I found myself left on a giant silent mountain
with nothing around but what was there …

then it happened that a smile like sweet mango
slowly juiced up my face, little thank-you tears
of a new sort moistened my cheeks.

I recalled Darth Vader’s relief when his
snarling mask was removed right before he died.
Shocked was I yet both sad and happy for him
in his moment of naked exhaustion.

I was glad he found a bare mountain
larger than he ever foresaw.

---

Jean Biegun
Poet

Jean is a poet who is very grateful whenever the Word steps into ordinary words that insist being written down. Her work has appeared in numerous publications, including AMETHYST REVIEW, AS ABOVE SO BELOW, ANCIENT PATHS, SOUL-LIT, and TIME OF SINGING. Her chapbook HITCHHIKERS TO EDEN was published in 2022. She is retired in California after a lifetime in the Midwest, USA.

Photography by Joe Yates