Pistols into ploughshares
Starve a fever, feed cold
steel barrels into the forge
Beneath scorched earth cool clay
the kiln at earth’s core;
creation’s heart of stone
Beneath the concrete floor
reverb of the hammer starts a rumour
– revolution, evolution, healing –
over the anvil, fever breaks
swords into ploughshares
long guns into garden tools
threat into the promise of
life grown from a mustard seed …
This poem first appeared at https://episcopaljournal.org/pistols-into-ploughshares/
over the water 