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  All Rights Reserved

   Thursday, March 17, 2005


Rachel Corrie's parents seek the one sure way to truth...a lawsuit.


A baby is just such a special thing,
A joy to a parent's world.
Though a boy is nice, no being is quite
Like a bright-eyed pink little girl.

Nurtured and fussed over, taught to walk—
—The excitement at her first words!
You show her the beauties of life, out back
From the lawn, with its trees and birds.

But then as she grows come the complex things;
"Mommy why did Brianne hit Ruth?"
"Daddy, tell me again why the bullies win."
As before, you will need full Truth.

But what will you teach if you think no Truth,
If it’s relative who's to blame.
Does innate imperative keep your peace,
Is authority all the same.

What is the lesson, the way of life
When the quiet must bear offense,
And the innocent hear that the fault is shared—
The decision offends her sense.

Were your lessons of life from the trees and birds
That the natural ways are best,
(Where sentient beings only know through thought)
And it's feeling that must be stressed.

What has she learned when sincere dispute
Is mocked with partisan growl.
And what have you taught when the soldiers seen
Your community friends call foul.

Should it be a surprise she would gather cues
From your countrymen's triumphs spurned;
You have taught her thus, as you trust the shield
Of your country's flag she burned.

Is anyone shocked when she feels allowed
By the model of her elites,
To think her stage in a fierce war zone
As benign as Olympia's streets.

As you cast about for your tears' devise
Will a trial deflect your part?
Reflect what turned on lessons learned
Then grown in a powerful heart.

Regardless of how your suits play out
In your terribly altered world,
The jury of cause-and-effect will find
You have killed your own little girl.

   posted by Stephen at 11:43 AM | Plink

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