One of the most memorable experiences in my life is having had the opportunity to live in Israel surrounded by Holocaust survivors. On one kibbutz the majority of residents were either survivors or children of survivors. You can read all of the books in the world about the holocaust and apart from actually living through it, one can never really fathom the inhumane atrocities handed out by fellow man. In my mid-twenties the stories I heard, and lives I encountered, has undoubtedly shaped who I am today. One cannot experience this tragic part of history and not be changed; even as mere witness.

This poem is one expression I felt having living amongst the Holocaust survivors in Israel. May we never forget and may it never happen again.



Depthless eyes staring back,
with no regard to what they’ve seen.
Living,
walking,
breathing dead.
Never comprehending.
Following day-to-day routines.

Ever hoping,
to someday reunite with
loved ones taken from the past.
Is life cruel?
Is life justified?
How long must this journey last?
Eyes, hollowed from lamentation.

Tattooed memories haunt them.
Why was it not them?
Why not another?
Nightmares.
Reality?
Confusion.
Surrealism.

Sleepless nights; the patterns of life.
Forgiveness; a soundless muffled word.
Whistles of death trains
piercing their ears;
If they would
or
if they could.

Young ones never understand
how torture rips at their opened wounds.
How they suffered
and suffer still;
Liberation came,
but
none too soon.

German; a cursed language
to such victims of war.
Millions of lives,
suddenly–
violently –
torn.
Death arrives like a cheapened whore.

Soon the hunted will be gone.
The textbooks will speak of a living hell,
Yet –
details are lost on forgotten pages.
New stories are current –
and
new things to tell.

Led like lambs to the slaughterhouse,
we sat in silence, pretending
it never could happen.
Not in our lives
could mankind be so cruel,
possessed with such venom,
darkness, and sin.

Remember the past as though it were current.
Let us never forget the heroic lives
of those who sleep in Abraham’s bosom;
of Six
Million
Jews,
who faced their abrupt demise.

The cycles of life, unexpectedly crushed.
It wasn’t just those who lost their lives;
it was the ones yet unborn, that we mourn.
It was their children,
grandchildren,
their husbands,
their wives.