Not knowing what to do with so many tears,
I walked to the mother of all maples,
Planted myself before her great trunk, tilted my head back and looked through time.
I spoke a few words to the dark,
“I recognize you, you resilient ones. I want to bless you millions of stars that suffer no more, but give light.”
Your lives’ suspended animation
Reached across a shivering silence hundreds of thousands of miles
To move my heart.
** ** **
This poem sprung from a bit of my work exposing me to the photographs of Henryk Ross of the Lodz ghetto.