We lost two more children this week, God.
And that’s the awful truth.
We lost them.
At 3 p.m. on Tuesday we knew where
they should have been.
Kicking a rubber ball over second base,
loitering in front of 7-Eleven,
taking up a collection among buddies
to afford a bag of chips,
scarfing down said chips.
We called their grandparents.
Maybe they’d gone there on their bikes.
But there were no skid marks in the driveway.
We opened their bedroom doors and
hollered their names.
No one called back, Here, Mom!
We lost them.
Their bodies we found in church,
10 feet back and 6 feet under
from where Jesus also lay dead.
After all these years you can still see Mary,
stone faced, keeled over at the foot of the cross,
looking up at her son like she refuses to
understand what he’s doing up there.
The Bush-league killed him.
(More awful truth.)
The government said they knew he was innocent
but it would be more convenient this way.
It’s a mob out there. Plus, you know,
right to assemble, right to bear arms.
Better to sacrifice one from across the river
than to piss off the natives.
I went to the Church of The Natives up the road to inquire.
I asked to see where the little Lord Jesus
laid down his sweet head.
They said, this is the Church of the Nativity.
He was only born here, he’s not from here.
No wonder we lose so many children.
Native. Nativity. Birth. Birthright.
A couple more or few-- letters so we can say
you’re not my problem.
I hope I’m never lost without food, money, or I.D. in Turkey.
No one will know they won’t die if they feed me.
On Sundays where I come from the priest
tries to tell us his body was broken for us
so that we could be whole or something.
But I’m starting to think that’s a lie.
We broke Jesus, and then we lost the pieces.
Not all of them, mind you.
We scrapped and sold what we could
to the highest corporate bidder.
Took the money and bought ourselves a
first-class ticket to Eden.
But the sign upon arrival said,
No Re-Entry.
Because we lost them.
Christ. Mary isn’t going to go
to Egypt without Jesus. Eve ain’t
returning to Eden without Cain,
and Abel too.
Home is where we learn to break safely
and be lost.
Until we find all the pieces, though,
home just won’t be home.
Mothers say so.
So, light the lamps,
release the hounds,
row across the Nile.
There are no shorelines tonight,
all waters are international.
The mission is to salvage
the heart.
Author: David Pierce
I'm the one on the left. That's my favorite part on the right. I'm an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church (USA) and the United Church of Christ. I work as Minister to a parish community in Cumberland, RI. That I could also see myself as a farmer, a cowboy, or Thoreau sitting pond-side at Walden is probably not insignificant. I don't blog about anything in particular, but everything I blog about is particularly important to me. That it may be to you as well is good enough for me.
View all posts by David Pierce
PleaseGrace 