War No More

 

War No More

(“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward mankind.” Luke 2:14)

 

You were alerted that the sun would rise early the next day,
yet you kept your eyes averted and knelt under shadowy rocks.
How could you miss the noise and thunder,
the voices lifted in wonder, the wings heating the embers
like bellows in fiery love.

And yet, concerted, you asked others to join in your
announcements of doom from stage to stage,
field to field, church to church, and age to age
until we all believed the story was as dark as you
preached it. We read the books, we watched the movies,
we believed the demons, we waited while you continued
unabated in your
end time and end earth talk
of bloody wars and civil conflicts
and reversing elections. God must love you
more than the rest of us to let you in on a thousand
foggy secrets.

You diverted the river of peace; you inverted the love
meant for worldwide jazz combos improvising on
perfection and light. You missed the diamonds
gifted to you in joy, you cast off curses with the
remnants of coal.

I reject your dust and ashes.

There are melodies only heaven can compose,
each solo a thread of the tapestry,
each voice a stone in an eternal mosaic.
But you can’t hear them, you’ve perverted them
into dirges that hang on one dirty note.

While God courts us, we flirt with machines of war.
With peace as the promise we keep drawing our swords
as if one more lopped-off ear would bring a golden age again.

Lay down your burdens, lay them down, down, down;
lay them down by the riverside to

Study war no more.