Lay Down Arms!

Lest we forget: there’s no need to recall.
God knows all that has been, and what will be.
The grave, our birth cave, sealed all with the Fall,
The day we hung ourselves on the first tree.
The night is like wine, from the dipper-cup poured;
Flowing warm from the dark eastern sky.
Forgetting is a begetting, therefore:
A new birth from the land of no lies.
Take to bed, take to trees, take to what comes,
Leave your cares to the watchers at their posts,
Just take this one night to lay down arms,
And make your peace with the hates you love most.
All of this, look!, it has been newly made
In the likeness of One, Whose light knows no shade.