No privileged lady…
She stands among the ordinary folk
As her son
Is made a spectacle of,
To exhibit the power and might
The power of Rome.
And the cold reasoning of the clerics,
Soldiers trained in the schools
Of terror and cynicism
And clerical manipulators of mobs.
Forced a cross and crown of thorns—
Combining torture and mocking.
Staging a street drama
For evil eye to feed the brains
Of the powerful with a sense of triumph
There the mother follows
His every step, every breath
Mind, heart, body and soul
All with him all the way
Unmoved by terror and humiliation
She is there as he falls
As he gets up and walks
As he falls again
As he is lashed and geared.
Feeling his every breath,
Seeing how he bleeds and sweats,
She walks with him
In body and the spirit.
Knowing his kingdom
Is not of this world.
Basil Fernando
