The Candle

Here's a little poem..I jotted down after the passing of a Holocaust Survivor Grandparent a few weeks ago...


A magnificent room illuminated by hundreds of candles
But nature extinguishes them one by one
You glance back and memorize every detail
As long as there is still some flickering light

For hundreds of years, our Tradition was passed on seamlessly
All of a sudden the seams so violently ripped and severed
Still, we have the comfort of being in the presence of the generation
That saw, smelled, heard, felt the European experience of a millennia

But the candles that allow us to peer into the room that was the old world
Are going out..Turn around..look...ask...grab onto those whom we love
Those that know and remember.
Soon we will be all alone. Can we go on..alone?