Here
in the yuletide
season,
today’s
peace on earth
and good will…
lay hidden somewhere
in the attic of bygone days:
wrapped in cobwebs of time.
Once considered obsolete—
hopefully benign—
malignant war
has become
the trend today;
Our war sick world,
drunk on inebriating
negative wisdom,
has evolved into an oxy-
moronic society—hailing
war as a negative good.
Indeed the winter season
of peace on earth…
has become a warring
sales season
rather than the season
of giving peace.
The red, white
and green arrays
no longer signal
joyous of times
but have become
grievous reminders
of the bombings
of peaceful children
whose blood coagulates
in war’s putrid flotsam.
Pregnant mothers
in silence of death
beseech forgiveness—
aborting babes; wretched
deaths of brutal conflict:
In psalms of grief
mercy contemplates
the choices.
Despite it all,
as we struggle in faith
let us be ever mindful
that above us
is the attic of God—
where warmly wrapped
in swaddling love,
abides audacious hope:
the creative good will
towards all
echoing on the horizon—
Come, let us welcome
the new dawning
bringing the vitality
of God’s abiding peace—
moving us forever forward
to the day when evil war weapons
shall be mould into plowshares
and pruning hooks of grace.
The dream lives; the vision is;
the reality comes.