A poem in honor of Yom HaShoah 5779. A Sonderkommando’s memories and the role of the living.
The seeds planted on Tisha b’Av, a poem by Ovadya ben Malka: “A curse and a blessing were laid on us that day. Having lived the curse, can we doubt that blessing will come as well?”
On the liberation of Birkenau. Only those who’ve known the depths can known the full impact of redemption. A poem by Ovadya ben Malka.
A poem by Ovaday ben Malka on memory and our inability to flee from the past.
My past has faded away into nothing
Leaving shreds of longing.
The sound of the waves.
My mother’s voice
The feel of my sister’s hair as she slept,
her head in my lap.
Listening to Sufi oud and flute,
Thinking mellow Sufi thoughts as I code html.
The bones inside the book.
Suddenly, a sharp jab!
I stop, afraid to look too closely at the wound….
T’chiat HaMetim means being reborn to see death for what it is, and to know that those things are most precious that can be taken from us in the blink of an eye