Thursday, November 3

Moss and Death

Birkenau has moss. I love moss. and trees. I love trees.

Today I joined the Jewish religious service. I figured it would be good to try something different. It wasn't that different.

We chanted and prayed outside one of the crematoriums. We connected with the spirits of this land, the divine. And as we sang in tones - not words - I began to connect with the souls still here. We had a conversation and by the end some were following the light.

I asked them to join us and bring with them the wisdom of their lives, their deaths. I carried the tones of our desperation from our people here, the people here on this planet. I pleaded for them to guide show us the way to never all this again.

And now here I sit
under the aspen and oak asking them to show us the way towards liberation.

and just as this leaf falls next to one in partial decay, I notice the moss once again, sprouting forth

Wednesday, November 2

Eternal presence

And then the love

The shining heart busting free

A sense of opening, even in all their remains. There's hope. Dignity. Truth. Connection. Contact. And, yes, less fear of this

We all sat together reading the names of the dead. Here. There. Here. Now

Here I find a place of Eternal presence. It is here we find a burst of light on the Railroad Tracks of Auschwitz

I feel my heart open more between the snippets of sobbing and more between the silence of this place. here we sit. On top the selection site. On top the place people, humans, were told to either begin their life under the gestapo behind the razor wire, or finish the short walk towards their death. towards the gas chambers.

Tuesday, November 1

A Long Walk Through the Sauna of Birkenau

I'd now be stripped naked
standing upon concrete
freezing cold water streaming down my back

This, as my most cherished belongings are confiscated and sanitized of all their value
This, so they will be clean enough for Germans

And now a long hallway
more concrete
I see life outside dying on the trees
falling to the ground
fertilizing the earth

This as I have my own hair harshly taken from me
I can feel the blood drip onto my neck
As they carve into my skin, an uneven, messy tattoo begins to replace me

Naked now in all possible ways
stripped of anything familiar
we're herded like cattle
dripping wet into the next concrete room

Now here I'd sit
on the other side of the iron autoclave
just waiting for their black and white to cover my world

and wondering, where is my beloved?
He was weak and I noticed the thumb of the guard sending him off in another direction

12 hours have passed and after the freezing night, Sobbing tears and horse voice, my broken heart is terrified. I am alone.

It is from here that I begin my new life in a concentration camp.


These words were found resting in the sauna ground of a place called Birkenau:

"How can I sing when my world is laid to waste? How can I play with wrung hands? Where are my dead? Oh God, I seek them in every dunghill, in every heap of ash...oh tell me where you are."

It is here I see the future of faces destined as death