WHY NOT?

At a young soldier's funeral his son wonders why God let it happen... and maybe experiences his first doubt.

The breeze took his white surplice,
Waved it like a girl's frock, 
Whistled through his greying hair
And touched the nation's flag
Draped on a young man's coffin
Polished to beauty by a craftsman's hand
And waiting in the silence by a grave.

The flag rippled like flags might
When a cold wind from nowhere touches them,
The small crowd, mother's tears and father's grief,
Nod at words that never should be said,
And the child, tousle-headed boy,
Wonders in the wisdom of his youth
Why the God the surplice-man whispers of
And the all the magic at his command
Let the damned thing happen.

Let his daddy die, let his blood leak out,
Let his flesh get mangled like flesh is
When bullets tear through it,
Let the tall soldiers bear the coffin
Slowly like they did as if death is slow
When he knows how quick it came,
Why didn't that spirit in the sky
Lean down like spirits can
And catch the bullet in his teeth,
His magic teeth like gods have…