Yom HaShoah

You remember all those souls who were just like you.
And you call upon the name of God
El Olam
Eternal One,
One Who shines through the night
ever aflame.


El Olam
One Who lives throughout time,
there are times silence is the only sound
when facing horrors of the soul.

There are times when speech is too small.

White butterflies float, ghosts of the dead.
They perch on my heart,
visiting soul birds,
giving testimony,
silently.

They land on my bones.
They sing in my soul.
Their voices merge with my own.

I carry them
through my days and through my nights,
inside of me,
millions of them,
each with their own face.

Their wings beat inside my chest,
thrusting me to light,
thrusting me to preserve life,
thrusting me to live life
as a sacred trust.

They thrust me to life.

© 2008