by Amoret BriarRose
The Ancestors call.
I pour the water, light the candles,
sing the songs and suddenly
legions are behind me, washing me forward… 11 more words
On August 4th, I visited Auschwitz. In the beginning, the reality of the experience did not match my surrealist expectations of it. I expected to walk onto the grounds and get hit over the head with the heaviness of what happened there, to feel a sense of deep connection to the land covered in the ashes of my people, to have the opportunity to mourn the loss of the members of my family I never met and to be utterly speechless as to the twisted systematization and industrialization of murder that took place there. 793 more words