We Remember

Moshe Katz

We remember with sorrow
Blessed memories of souls taken too soon

Their blood runs in our veins
Their souls speak wisdom known inherently

We remember never to forget
The violence and hate that our people faced

It’s not a story unique to our history
Though it stands still in time for the price we paid

Not for actions or words
But for hate of who we are, for our existence

The rationalizations and lies
May for a time go dormant but they never die

We remember and mourn
But we are not weak nor do knees tremble

Instead it’s in their memory we stand
This day and all other days alike

We stand and carry on in light
Unwilling to lose our selves in another’s hate

We remember them through memorials
Yet perhaps even more still through courage

Courage that echoes the way they never bowed
In the face of the might of the Third Reich

Courage to exist in security
In the ancient home of our ancestors

Strength to say with steady voice
So clearly that it rings out in the night

We are here and live
Long after those who would see us gone

Fortitude to know
We’ll be here long after those who seek it now

That clear voice declares for all to hear
Am Yisrael Chai

A Seed Planted

Moshe Katz

A quiet voice whispered
So faint it might have been carried on an autumn breeze

Even as the winter of tyranny
Drove life into dormancy

Defiantly and resolutely
The voice would not be silenced

The threat was not to be mistaken
Ever present and clear as a summer day

It was in the face of such great evil
That one voice was joined by others

Whispers became shouts
Calls for justice and humanity to return

That decency might be restored
And with it the soul which had been trampled upon

Then all at once the voices were silenced
Not because courage waned or wavered

But rather that the price of standing up
Was deemed a price worth paying

Standing up for those held down
Speaking for those who could speak no more

Though time has passed and seasons change
If we stood still and listened closely

Their voices still call to us
That never should a moment pass

That those who can speak should
And not be shamed or bowed into silence

For each word of truth spoken liberally
Is no less than a seed planted

So when this winter gives way to the spring of truth and reason
From the seed once more shall grow the White Rose