And War Shall Be No More

Not a torch, a candle marks the gate to life, in peril for its faithfulness and unafraid to die. And were its flame extinguished as a witness to devotion, all the marchers, self-inflamed, would know the victory is of a new Jerusalem from higher ground, profound the wound and sanctified the blood imparted in its sacrifice. Call down the city, floating in your dome of stars. Bow low before your deity that rules within the heart, transcendent, built of broken clay and its own miracle, the spring of day within. To such the alleluias rise. To one great cause the armies march full-armored underneath the banner of their love, and though impossible, their everlasting dream ~