deepundergroundpoetry.com

SIX MILLION CHRISTS

those six million plus who wore Christ's fragile form
and let his woeful eyes watch from the gates of Auschwitz,
his bones scorched and hallowed in trenches,
haunting from dusty books, those hazed grey images
that repel yet beg for the study of wasted flesh and desperate want
and the horror of man's dark truth
his holy voice a rasp and whisper barely discernible above the fray of politics
asking if you who can only watch tributes to those long dead
would have stood against the tide of hate that carried so much hell
Author's Note
I ask myself that question about the antebellum south (and post "reconstruction" South Carolina) -- would I have simply tolerated or even participated in the horrors inflicted on black people? Racism was the zeitgiest, and I think only the best, strongest hearts and minds resisted or saw beyond it. We can all see the injustice now, but would I have seen it then? Had I been a working man in Germany in 1939 would I have seen it for what it was and would I have had the courage to act against it, or would I have fallen in line? Sometimes I like my answer, but sometimes I don't.
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