conflict inconceivable as
now recollections tumble in
such powerful fragments...
a childhood stolen by trauma.
Winter sliced through
bone and fear with savage
and murderous intent
and I couldn't sleep...so cold as ice,
with knowledge that Cracow
could console if I persevered,
but doubt crept in crevices of mind
and I challenged my right to believe
because mankind protected
only his own welfare and profit...
as I was losing my will to survive.
Yet mother's words caressed me
with comfort and strength ~
to stand, to walk, to hope,
as flames danced inside my soul
and urged life to carry me.
A childhood hidden from Nazis,
as no foot trod on pavements edge,
distractions forced on paper lips ~
in songs and poetry refrains
and art was born of hopeless times
in brushed strokes of courageous creativity;
defiance etched in easels embrace, as
evil shaded such scared young faces.
We cried for freedom
in a place with no more death ~
a land so long and so very far away,
where breath could blow without its fear
and many came together,
held hands to share hope's dreams
amid stained tears on frightened cheeks...
we looked over those green hillsides, to our future.
Passed ghettos where horrors resided
with little to eat and so much to want,
where bit by bit, each shadow taunted, as
times changed and we wandered home.
Our beautiful world struggled with
destruction, as goodness and human ideals
crumbled; old minds forgot that we
were human...yet I always believed that
beauty would one day be restored.
I was one of a fortunate few
away from the movie set dressed for the world,
away from the torturous ovens of Auschwitz,
away from the camps and genocide...
