Shout the light across the field
Chase away the smoke stains and tears
Run screaming and yelling praise and love
Bury your faces to the heavens
Cry out to the cross
Paint your smiles on the faces of the damned
Kiss the lips of the forgotten
Bring beauty where there is pain
Carry the wounded and weary
Forgive the religious and prideful
Wipe the knees of the saints
Give eyes to the blind and suffering
Taste the hunger of the poor
Burn your money
Help a beautiful man
Carry us all
Back to the hill
where he made it right

Take away the bullets and we'll use rocks

Do you wonder if the boy's mother feels it when her son pushes the button walking through the crowded square?
Does she taste the burned bodies lying all around?
Are her tears for the son or the unnamed dead?

War is so ugly. I'm no longer proud to watch our soldiers march in unison and wave good-bye from giant steel boats. Their sand colored fatigues and M-16s aren't cool and adrenaline rushing. The dog-tags no longer tug at my heart from around their necks.

Peace is one sided, of that I'm sure. If you don't shoot somebody else will. We can scream for non-violence and for our boys to come home but the killing fields will always call the names of the dead. If we don't bomb their homes they will bomb our embassies and the sick roller coaster goes on and on.

I'm not writing this to proclaim answers or opinions. There is no pretty picture.