Forgive Me
Reb Melech
I know it was your Yahrzeit
All the chassidim flowed in
Krakow is a sea of black,
For those who came to participate in the new industry
(Charedi Kivrei Zadikkim tourism)
I was being driven to the border past Reyshe / Rzeszów/Lancut/Lizesk
On the highway racing past you…
Thinking how many times I prayed by your tziyon,
Wondered how all types of chassidus come together by you,
You somehow bring us/them under your unconditional love
Even broken souls like me.
REMAH
Forgive me too Rav Moshe (Isserless),
I used to stop by you on the way to Lizesk
A nod to my Oberlander father
Reassuring him that even the Satmer Rov
Omitted “veyatzmahk pirkunei”
The gravesite is quiet in the chilly brilliant spring sunshine
(The tree grows over your tziyon, just like in the photos
from the turn of the 19th century)
no cannon ball holes piercing your tziyon
(like the Chozeh!)
Stopping by the cradle of minhag Ashkenaz in deference to you,
Don’t worry Dad I used to say, the stylish move to chassidus
Does not supplant your minhagim…
It was theological not behavioral!
Then I look for the Megaleh Amukos
(on whose matzevah is inscribed: “he had gilui Eliyahu x3”) !!
But Rabbosai, you know there Is this war going on,
Next door, across the border
While you both rest peacefully,
Yet for an inexplicable reason
I felt the need to come here
To be here
Despite my wife’s exhortations
(the Ukrainian NAZI’s were the worst butchers in WWII)
Despite the AZOV fighters’ NAZI insignia
Despite the steely eyed soldiers guarding the fascist cross
By the lake where we do tashlich in Uman
And the assaults on chassidish kids on the streets of Pushkina
Despite history..
At the border
I see thousands of women and crying children
lined up by the border heading into Poland
Images of the forced lethal marches circa 1944
Each carrying a heavy heart and a wheely, leaving for safety
Leaving behind their loved men to fight
It’s an epic story of human misery and transmigration
I feel I am in a movie set
This long line in the no man’s land between war and safety.
Once again Europe drips with blood.
I am filled with pride as I see the Israeli flag on red medical volunteer suits
Literally hundreds of volunteers yelling in Hebrew
even units of Israeli medic soldiers help out
with their tents, food and equipment, truly a kiddush Hashem.
I walk in the opposite direction to the refugees,
so my path is clear, and I feel a loneliness
As I am walking into the fray.
An Israeli Major sees me stumbling carrying bags
of heavy donated equipment and insists on
helping me.
Four bubbly Israeli volunteers offer me fruit
from their supermarket cart they are taking to the
other side where thousands wait in line in silence.
I want to hug each one.
I volunteered in 1972 as a medical student during the Yom Kippur War
Now memories of those same whiney sirens surface
as we descend into the shelter.
For all the talk, writings on Post Holocaust this and that,
I need to be here…
“Never Again” applies to all human beings
So please forgive me Reb Melech and RAMO
I will come back on a better day.
