Twilight of the Gods
(Raanana, May 2, 2019)
Liberated from the shackles of human decency
And the bonds of fundamental morality,
Girded by Thor's hammer and Aryan superiority
They rounded us up in the small hours of night
When our innocense slept dreaming
Of unicorns and stolen kisses
Marching us half-dressed or naked
Through the streets to waiting trucks and trains
To be turned into soap or lampshades.
From our ashes, we rose up into the skies,
Not like a phoenix to renewed life
But as a constellation in night's canopy
Of six million dying embers.
When they invaded the countries around them
They liberated those peoples from their shackles
Of decency and morality too
And they also rounded us up in barns which they burnt
Or murdered us as they found us with their pitchforks
And things we never knew could be used against us.
We were not schooled in the arts of hating and killing
As they had been since time immemorial,
But we did not go like lambs to our deaths
Trusting the shepherd to lead us to pasture.
No, those of us who could steal a gun did so,
Those who couldn't but could strangle a soldier did so,
Those who couldn't protect themselves hid,
And those who couldn't hide waited in fear
For death's coming.
Of the six million, like any other people,
Neither more nor less,
One hundred and twenty thousand were blessed with genius.
Moshele, two years old, would have cured cancer,
Rochele, unborn dead with her murdered mother,
Would have wiped out hunger in our world,
And Hannale, three months old, would have brought peace.
Six million worlds
Six million possibilities
Shorn from our tree of life.
This morning the sirens sounded throughout the land
Calling us to stand silently thinking our own thoughts
Of what happened so long ago
And what might have happened
Had those other things not occurred.
Leaves flitted to earth in the warm wind,
Birds flew and dogs barked.
Some would say to us, “The world has moved on
And you should too,”
But the world stands still for those who remember
And circles around for those who forget.