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