I am broken by the beauty of the world
by pain exploding in the midst of life
and by the sheer goodness of the people
marching and singing.
It seems wrong that I see the blood poured out,
that of Renee Good and Alex Pretti,
as something beautiful when it is yet warm
glaring and shining.
The blood of the innumerable Abels
for all eternity cries out from ground,
yet on the snow it weaves a living tapestry,
shouting and speaking.
I think I cracked the code of Jesus,
who was so badly killed by agents of the state,
and then some people saw his death as good.
It is a really dull frame of mind what happened,
a very illogical way of thinking,
to see beauty in the utmost suffering,
a work of art in death and destruction.
It is so wrong — I think —
and yet that’s what I feel:
that interrupted lives
wrecked projects, joys killed,
hopes maimed in one,
are seeds of life for many.
Renee and Alex: your lives were works of art
which no bullet ever can destroy;
we hear your gentle voice, that sap of yours
is running through our veins.
Photo on left: “Renee Good, approximately 26 seconds before the shooting. From the cellphone video of the ICE agent who made the shots. Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.
Photo on right: “Portrait photo of Alex Pretti” from the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs. Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.
Banner image: Items left at the site of Alex Pretti’s murder by ICE agents in Minneapolis. Photo by Darth Stabro on Wikimedia Commons. Public Domain.
Queries for Contemplation
Have you ever written poetry as a spiritual practice? How helpful do you find it?
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Creation Spirituality: Liberating Gifts for the Peoples of the Earth.
Occupy Spirituality: A Radical Vision For a New Generation, Adam Bucko and Matthew Fox.
4 thoughts on “A Poem for Renee and Alex”
No, but thank you Matthew for the beautiful poem that expresses our grief and Faith for the beautiful eternal souls of Renee and Alex:
“… Renee and Alex: your lives were
works of art
which no bullet ever can destroy;
we hear your gentle voice, that
sap of yours
is running through our veins.”
Beautiful Gigi💙. I have written some. The last poem I wrote was when the pandemic hit, and so many souls were crossing over.
It would be great to look at that one again, if I can find what I did with it. Blessings to the team there, and thank you for the daily inspirations.
Meg
Evil hates good, She was Good, Evil is ugly, He was Pretti.
In a neighborhood of the Twin City,
Behind a black hood, coward and hefty,
Evil slayed them both, Good and Pretti.
Somber is the mood, yet much stronger is UNITY.
I do. Some of my poems are too long to post here. I wrote this one “The Pain of This World” during the first orange menace administration.
The pain of this world has worn me out this morning
I need a nap
I need to forget that babies are being torn from mother’s arms at the border
I need to forget that an anarchist
presuming himself to be king sits in the Oval Office
And the lies keep coming
I need to forget about the melting ice sheets
And the Rohinga huddled together in great masses
with scarce food and water and reason to live
And of 22% of my own country’s children
who go to sleep food insecure every night
I need to forget that our children are afraid to go to school
for fear of being massacred (thank God it’s summer)
And I don’t want to remember all the other things I also want to forget
I need a nap, and it isn’t yet noon
Ah, but a hawk just landed on my garden fence
In its world too the strong eat the weak
Even so, in its world
Unlike in my country
There’s something natural about that