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I have written countless poems and fiction pieces over the years that have to do with the Holocaust. I wrote the following poem a few years ago, and thought it was fitting to share it with you today.
The Colors of My Rainbow
i.
A sunset.
Crimson sky
splattered with magenta
and hints of orange.
Then haze.
Smoke clouds rise,
then hover above,
obliterating beauty,
obliterating life.
ii.
The sky.
Cloudless.
Blue.
Like the techelet
of the tallit,
and the single blue thread
of the tzitzit.
A lone bird
flies overhead,
calling out for its mate.
iii.
A meadow.
Green.
The color of roots,
rebirth and regrowth.
Its sweet-smelling grasses
wave and beckon in the breeze.
iv.
Bright smiles.
Silly giggles.
Hushed whispers.
Gleeful shouts.
The aged man turns
to the children at his side
and says softly,
“Let me share with you
the colors of my rainbow…”
6 comments:
Looking back at this poem, I have no clue why I made the tallit blue and stuck a blue thread in the tzitzit. Oh, well...can you promise to overlook those points?
what, your leaving comments to yourself now? !!!
Pearl, it's a beautiful poem...as all of your poems are (blue or no blue)
I didn't know you write such touching poetry. Please post more!
I love the adding of the colors to add to the imagery. (visit my blog-blogroll me)
I Love this!
Oh...if only the children would be
receptive
perceptive
Thank you, all, for your comments. I can recall that when I wrote this I thought how vividly colors can play into our lives, in both a good and bad way.
This old man, a Holocaust survivor, has his own rainbow to talk about to his grandchildren.
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