The Pennsylvania pastor, his Union Army service ended

by an errant Confederate bullet in his leg

rejoins his congregation of “Onward Christian Soldiers”,

preaching to them in the little brown church in the wildwood,

soon after the three day horror of Gettysburg.

The preacher relives the scene of the Union Army

stretched behind the stone wall along Cemetery Ridge.

He watches waves on waves of Picketts division,

coming on…

coming on…

coming.

Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia

mowed down by the hundreds

as they, finally, crash against Meade’s wall

and there, totter, bracing for a final push

to break the line,

then failing,

falling back across the field,

trailing blood, the dead, left behind.

The Yankee’s firing grape shot, mini-balls,

hurling curses and shouts of

“Fredericksburg! Fredericksburg!”

at them as they retreat.

The battle all but over.

Lee limps away in good order yet again,

South to Virginia,

to tend to his men,

to fight on….

But!

This Pennsylvania preacher

keeps preachin’ on and on!

Of God’s Almighty Angel Army,

their wings spread wide against the storm,

their fiery hair blowing in the wind!

“I’ve beheld it! I’ve beheld it!”

The repulsing of the Rebel charge

with God-sent-thunder-clap and lightning-flash,

routing Satans Confederacy

at the apex of its final attempt at invasion!

Ending slavery’s evil sin!

He shouts his witness!

“My eyes have seen it, Brothers and Sisters!

The Glory of Victory in the Coming of The Lord!”

And the congregation believes

the evidence of the preachers vision,

shouts, “Glory! Glory! Alleluia!!!

And so the seam between faith and fact,

thin, at times, near porous

weaves its way into history.

Faith contained in mustard seeds

creates all the evidence it needs,

morphing moments, some mundane,

some tumultuous

into the sustaining substance of belief.

And who’s to doubt?

As all God’s soldiers shout,

“His truth is marching on!

Amen! Amen!”