In a field of lilies trampled by warriors
the Shekhinah weeps
Men invoke their god and don armor
all zeal and fury
They are the righteous seeking justice
the angel of death on their shoulders
drunk on glory
They dance and rejoice and kill
their way to salvation
deaf to cries of mercy
In a field of lilies strewn with corpses
the Shekhinah cries
lives wasted in the name of holiness
lives, imperfect, messy, fallible
but beautifully alive
sacrificed, oh why,
on the altar of righteousness
In a field of lilies stained with blood
the Shekhinah raises her voice
don’t come to me for mercy
don’t come to me for forgiveness
live with your conscience,
son of Jesse, I am the one who
diverted Avraham’s knife
from Isaac’s throat
Turn your sword into a ploughshare
I raise no armies
I need no warriors
I dwell among the peaceful
