Embedded Files
Rachel was inspired to write “Two Crowns" based on the heroic martyrdom of St. Maximilian Kolbe. Both haunting and hopeful, this elegy exists in conversation with Rachel's original mixed media gouache painting titled “St. Maximilian Kolbe, Saint of Auschwitz.” Rachel recited “Two Crowns” during Verses at Nightfall, a poetry reading hosted by the Joie de Vivre print journal of art, culture, and letters for South Louisiana.
What is to become of you?
The final question, the final solution
You choose. And you choose to be forgotten.
Forget about your radio ministry, your double-doctorate degrees
No one is going write PhD at the end of your prisoners number
No one is going to remember you, only your most gracious mother
Who remembers you besides your most gracious virgin?
And the question what is to become
of you?
Little soldier boy, you choose Auschwitz
You remember how she showed you the two crowns?
What is to become of you?
You choose.
You choose to become the martyr who chooses the crown blood red with thorns sharp
Sharp as the barbed wire that pins you in
The fences of Auschwitz
The final solution
is you.
You choose to become the virgin who chooses the crown white
White as the face of the father full of fear breaking down
–His wife–his children–
All it took from you was to choose one step forward
“I am,” you said, “I am a Catholic priest.”
Who are you?
You choose.
The final solution
is you.
What is to become of you?
You virgin you martyr you father
With blood red heart
Beating its finished rhythm in the starvation bunker
and you choose this singing hymns with the prisoners
To be finished dripping water drinking piss
To stay alive even though you would die
the last one to survive the last one left
Arm stretched out to be pierced by needle
Lethal injection
Carbolic acid
You died last because they needed you.
It is finished, and you choose that the last word on your lips is “Maria.” Immaculata.
What is to become of you?
This is Auschwitz
You remember this vision you had
You were dreaming
You don’t know why but your were flying
Over Poland
It never made sense
And now it is finished
It is time to burn your body
Burn your body where lungs hung almost useless
All your life
Burn the body for this is Auschwitz.
You choose. You’re useless
What is to become of you?
You’re ashes, you’re last breath
Now everlasting
No relics to collect
Only one holy aroma
Exhaled up
Like incense rising.
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