2006-03-03
Kindertransport and Meaning of Home Reflection
Rememory
My body,
my soul,
the child in me,
will forever be dancing.
It will be jumping in between
dreams of
hope and
desire.
But when the storm builds up
and the lightning strikes,
I return.
I run back to
my comfort,
my safety,
my security and
leap into the arms of my humble abode.
I am home.
There is no breaking apart or
falling through ice to
drown in shallow water and
hold my breath for tomorrow.
Home keeps me waking up every day.
It keeps me breathing every moment.
So I can wake up tomorrow and keep on.
Once upon a time, not so
long ago,
children's voices
spoke in riddles
and their
memories in rhyme.
Suddenly, night began to
fall.
The sewn-on yellow stars lit up the streets and
they carried their children to the
midnight trains.
The lightning began to close in and
the skies began to drizzle.
It should have been goodbye, and
instead only
broken promises and
salty tear kisses that
told the
truth.
There is no running back for these
children.
To the place they know as
home.
But only a shadow beneath them
with hands intertwined and
hearts held together
so softly.
oilandwater at 10:06 p.m.