Color of Memory

Kahal Shalom

julie — Mon, 14 Feb 2011 23:51:44 +0000

Over five centuries of history,
From inquisition to Shoa
Stands Kahal Shalom,
A synagogue, a jewel,
Where voices once echoed in prayer,
Where ancient songs flowed
From lofty windows.
On Sabbath, on holidays,
They gathered
For community, for comfort,
For celebration and for prayer,
Crowding at its gate,
Living life’s cycles
With love and with zest.
They all disappeared,
The young and the old
Wrenched by their roots,
Leaving only stones
To tell their stories,
And a long list of names,
A testimony to those that once lived.
And now, the ghosts return
Frequently, mysteriously,
To hover around,
To sigh and remember
Their beloved Kahal Shalom.

Memorial Wall

julie — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 07:46:58 +0000

In the summer of 2003 I traveled to Poland. Specifically to Treblinka, the death camp, where I was shown head stones that came from desecrated cemeteries in the Treblinka vicinity. These head stones were used by evil to pave roads and further erase the history of Jewish life in Europe.
Since then I have been working on creating a memorial for all the cemeteries that have been destroyed and I hope to raise awareness and support for the restoration of these cemeteries.
This wall stands 8 feet tall and is made of reproduced headstones from ones that I saw at Treblinka.
It is part of the Holocaust Series. This is a picture of the Wall, front at right, back below.

The Ultimate Sacrifice

julie — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 07:44:37 +0000

For two thousand years we have been in the Diaspora.
For two thousand years we prayed that

“Next year we’ll be in
Jerusalem.”

After our final sacrifice we have come home,
Never again to be brought to the sacrificial alter.

Out of The Ashes

julie — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 07:43:02 +0000

Out of the fires of the inferno.

The Hands;
Hands emerged out of the fire ready to rebuild their lives,
ready to fight back and raise a new generation strong and
confident, a generation that will never face the fires again.

The Silhouettes;
The dark silhouettes slowly appearing, emerging,
walking away but promising to keep the flame burning.

The sobbing face;
The sad and sobbing face on the left remembering and
promising to never forget and
NEVER to allow it to happen again.

The Wedding

julie — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 07:42:03 +0000

Joyfully they returned
To the cavernous remains
Of a perished community.
In an ancient synagogue,
They stood hand in hand.
They were wed and were blessed.
Through broken windows
Birds twittered their applause.
In the Judeiria they danced
With friends and with loved ones.
Creating new memories,
Remembering the old.
And through it all,
Three hippocampuses wept
With sadness and with joy –
The enemy fell,
The bloodline resumes its flow.

A Raibow of Tears

julie — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 07:40:58 +0000

In the center of the square,
A cold and majestic trio
Crowns a fountain.
Doves frolic in its fresh water,
At its mosaic base,
Colorful tourists pose,
Beaming and oblivious
Of the tears that gently flow
From molten eyes.
The sea horses remember
All those who gathered
To play and to sing,
To love and embrace,
And all those who were gathered
And then were gone.
Amidst the grays of yesterday’s shadows
The tears reflect
The rainbows of today,
And a better tomorrow.

Shalom Aba

julie — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 07:39:46 +0000

On November 7, 1997 in the wisp of a moment
my father was gone. From our hands to His hands.
I know he is in a better place now – a place of peace
and solitude. I realize now how precious every
Memory is. The survivors are slowly withering into
extinction. Each time one dies, another story fades
into indifference. Unless we continue to remember…
to keep the flame alive…to never allow prejudice
and hatred to repeat history.

Shalom Aba……………………Shalom

All Is Not Pink

julie — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 07:38:37 +0000

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter
Through the arches,
Through the doorways
They came and they went
They ran, they played, they sang
They cried –
They are crying now – somewhere – but where?
Now they are gone
The young, not fully grown.
Only the pink walls remain,
An echo, a hum of small footsteps,
Pitter, patter, pitter, patter…..

Memories

julie — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 07:37:36 +0000

“As the years go by, and as I reflect on the past…

I am in the twilight
of my life…
I can still see the faces……
hear the voices……
and smell the air……
I can not escape these sensations.
I can’t forget.

When I close my eyes at night I am still there.
We’re all together again……

Rhodes Today

julie — Sun, 12 Dec 2010 07:36:41 +0000

60 years later,
Tourists come and they go,
Through this portal
They stroll
From the ports, to the beaches,
Past the shops and the ”Judeirea”
They do not know the life that was,
The lives that were,
The sounds of joy that overnight
Became the sounds of horror.
They only see the turquoise sea,
The ancient stones,
They feel the Mediterranean sun,
Upon their skins.
They tap to the rhythm of bouzoukis,
Sipping on ice cold ouzos,
Feeling warm and contented
As they savor Rhodes today.