Michael G. Kesler
Yohrzeit
Reconstructionist 15 (Oct. 2, 1949): 12
On Simhat Torah, 1942, the last 5,000 of a total of 16,000 Jews in my native city, Dubnoru, Poland, were exterminated by the Nazis. I had been in Russia by then, but returned in 1945, only to find that my family and friends had been buried in a mass grave.—M.G.K.
As I think of the day when I digged with fingers
Soil on the graves cemented with blood;
Found limbs of a child—beside it a shot—
And smelled odor of death ’midst Death—
I feel too proud to cry, to beg pardon in vain,
Too mature to read Ekhah, too strong to complain.
Necropolis of peoples’ conscience!
Valley of vices and crime!
Defeating distance and time, even tonight
Storms of the past are striking my island
Of refuge, shores of complacency,
And carry me back to your lap.
No tear has blotted your vision, my kin,
No cheerful tune did silence your note.
Tonight, as on that day, girded with hope
I follow the song of Ezekiel,
The song of "Dry Bones In the Valley"
Of Death and Resurrection.
Now when the shadows there sing Tehezaknah,
And slaves of freedom rejoice,
My heart, though bleeding, I strengthen my voice
And do pray in response, raising the flag
Of courage, of will, and the legend of action,
Blessed be my memory! Blessed be my might!