Abraham sheathed the sharp dagger of sacrifice
at heaven's command, and in obedience unbound
His son and offered the accepted ram.

But men who do not know the feel of a child
born in pain and aching to be free,
the feel of a suckling child held in arms --

eager for the nipple and the warm milk,
the soft press of cheek to breast, and fingers
that unfold in sweet, peaceful sleep --

those men who do not know would offer up
a woman's son and call the God of Abraham
barbaric, those men who will not sheath their swords.

They are the barbarous ones who, day by day,
A thousand thousand precious sons do slay.

- Druzelle Cederquist
World Order Magazine, Vol. 33, No3, Spring 2002

Poetry Notes at Luminous Realities blog