People of the Book

The sickles glint, fly screaming through the fields,
scattering blood and bones of wheat and chaff together,
and all banners burn.

And on the Sabbath, the people greet each other salaam alaikum
And on the Sabbath, the people greet each other shalom aleichem
And on the Sabbath, the people greet each other peace be with you

And we all cry peace, peace when there is no peace
when we will not have peace
when we beat our plowshares into swords
our words into swords
and the blood of Abel cries out against us all
and we will not listen for the Blood that speaks a better Word.

O that the camel would speak, the bush burn, the rocks cry out,
Creation tell us again that His Name is wonderful beyond understanding.
We breathe our darkness onto the glass and cannot see that on His side
All
Is
Light
and smoke of war
and smoke of hate
and smoke of death
and smoke of sin
do not blur it.

O my brothers, fellow sons of those who wrestle with God, each other, themselves;
may some remnant of those under each banner someday meet in the New Jerusalem,
and say then

salaam alaikum,
shalom aleichem,
peace be with you

and forget themselves, forget each other,
rejoice in the end of wrestling as they are pinned by His Glory.

© John M. Munzer