Lamb Enough

Lamb Enough

Mike Bonikowsky

Come quickly Lord, and grant your peace
Let the rush and hustle cease
Let the generals go back to bed
And the dead to bury their own dead.

Let our trigger-fingers ease
And our besieging engines seize
Let the yoke slip from the ox
And to its hole return the fox.

Return the sparrow to its nest
Our troubled planet to its rest
Sing our hate-filled hearts to sleep
All mortal flesh their silence keep.

Let all mortal flesh keep silence
There’s Lamb enough for all our violence.
All mortal flesh make not a sound
There’s Lamb enough to go around.

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Mike Bonikowsky
Poetry Editor & Personal Support Worker

Photography by Caroline Greb