Crown of Thorns ( by Fr. Richard Frechette)

crown of thorns

like two crowns of thorns
on top of five dry corpses
in final sleep, lay alexandra and stephanie
in the barbaric cave for the dead
known in creole as simply “mog”
my trembling hand blesses them
may the angels lead you far, far from here
and do so in all haste
you and this throng of dead that surround you

their final sleep had not come easily
but followed upon an ideal one
in a shack too small for even a bed
on the floor with mother and father
sleeping securely with naught but love
as their treasure

then shots ring out
no small guns
bullets way too big for small heads
and for the small hearts that suddenly panic
searching for mom too late

alexandra’s eye becomes a deep red canyon,a fjord
and its twin turns to gaze at it
fixed and wide forever
no time for good bye
only to seek the messenger of light

stephanie’s face shows a quiet peace
but her blood soaked night wrap
leaves no doubt
of how fast she was gone, unknowing

mother tries to run with them
but to where?
and finds she cannot move
stayed not by horror
but by her gunshot leg
testament of her steadfast place
in the life and death of her two young gardens
which are no more

i turn to a companion
he tries twice but he cannot speak
he is back at his mothers side, a boy again
when so many years ago
hers also the fate of alexandra

another sobs heavily
bearing a mountain of sorrow
for children he never knew

peacekeepers blame builders of a better world
and the reverse gets equal claim
mother says simple
peacekeepers killed my children
and then she becomes just another story
and the bodies of her children
become pieces of evidence
and all of humanity grows poorer by light years
never the wiser

stabat mater dolorosa
iuxta crucem lacrimosa
dum pendebant filias


Richard Frechette CP
On the massacre of Alexandra and Stephanie
Cite Soleil Feb 1 2007