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Friday, January 27, 2006

January 27, 1945 ~ Liberation of Auschwitz

To an Unknown Girl in Auschwitz

by Charles L. Cingolani

I

Who are you who make your way
in the endless lines?
You, Two-Six-Nine-Five-Three,
You, the Flower of Jewry
proud, erect, your denuded skull
that once flowed rich black
with hair that tumbled fountain-like
around a slender neck of ivory
cascading onto shoulders
to fall divided gliding down
over breasts and back.

What noble forehead I see
above dark pools
wherein burn radiant eyes,
your soft sunken temples,
the slope of your regal nose.
Those lips, lightly pursed
above a chin held aloft,
borne with that silent certainty
of being loved already
by one yet unknown to you,
but whose presence now felt
propels your dauntless search.

Your every movement graced,
your feathered step,
your groping hands gliding
those fingers loosely stretched
that have yet to caress
a newborn babe
or cushion a lover's head
from loving spent.

II

On what hidden tether are you
being drawn to him
who has come here
searching for you among the fair,
for you, his longed-for love.

You are his Winter Rose,
You are his Rising Sun
You are his Evening Star,
You are his House of Gold.

He has looked for you in every bower
sought out the lions' lairs,
no latch undone, no hinge unswung
until he ventured through these gates,
searching for you
in one last despairing quest.

Was it not his nearness
that awakened you before dawn
set you on this path in darkness
seeking out his lodging place?

Done with watching, longing,
done with endless dialogue alone
done with patience, pining, waiting.
You move, irresistibly drawn
to juncture, fullness, oneness,
where waiting ceases
where union quenches thirst.

All your visions clung to nights through,
all anticipation that has long beaten
at your love-sick heart
crave for fulfillment, a bringing out
that you know now
will soon come about.

Is that his voice you hear,
your head lowered now
your eyes straining
as you rush in his direction?
Are you about to enter
upon a banquet prepared?
Do you see yourself reclining
in fruits from his trees,
cushioned in down, gazing at
swirling columns of incense rising
as you await his first light touch?

He must see you coming now,
you, so intent, in his direction.
Stands he there behind some board,
some cleft in a wall?
Hear you his words already?
Is he proffering a time, a tryst, a place?
Or is it a room, a loft, a nest—
like orioles make, a flaxen purse
hanging deep in foliage hidden
where union takes place?

Are you asking
if he knows of your longing,
if his will meld with yours
in folds of awareness so hermetic
as to envelop you in one endless ritual
of giving and yielding?
All this questioning but distracts
from your final rush to him
into whose presence you are entering.

III

Go, lift your beauty to him.
All convention, all words, all thought
recede now. There is no fetter.
You are beyond license, sanction, law.
All is assent, oneness, accord.

You are running now,
taking to the wing, gently, lightly.

But he, too, is in motion
nearing, so near
about to catch you up, sidelong, longing,
to envelop you
in the heat of his embrace.


Copyright © 2005

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart ~ 250th Birthday

Attended a Mozart Birthday Concert. The first piece was a symphony by the eight-year-old prodigy. It contained the embryo of all that was to come. The pristine beauty and clarity as in his later themes, the joy and the magic. Mozart's music opens a drawer for us and there he presents us with music we somehow know but have never heard expressed. Every line of music keeps eliciting a "yes, that's it".

Monday, January 23, 2006

J. S. Bach ~ Musical Patterns

Quite aside from the sound of Bach's music there is the beauty in the patterns that the fingers must make on the keys to produce the sounds. It is a pleasure in itself to shape the fingers into the flowing geometric figures called for. Discovering these patterns, this fresh kaleidoscope of new-born forms, produces a deep inner delight for me at my piano.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Lesson in Prayer ~

He was an eldery priest, humble. He said: "When you talk to God you must always start with your own ego. You must become fully aware of yourself here and now. When you have done that you should say 'Here I am, Lord, ready to hear You'. And then you wait for Him in His presence. Wait, not demanding that He speak, and satisfied, too, if He doesn't.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

A Sunday Morning ~

This morning at half past seven the eastern sky was tinted reddish-orange as the sun was just about to come up behind the hills, while in the western sky the bright moon was still hovering over the horizon. It was bitter cold. Five crows flew overhead, gliding lazily toward the sunrise.

Monday, January 09, 2006

Words of Strength ~

Tom's daughter found a poster that she framed and hanged beside Tom's bed. On it were the words: God spoke: I will not let you fall, and I will not abandon you. Josue I,5. Tom held onto those words in those last days.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

War ~

And this nagging thought keeps coming back: We are a nation that was duped into war. Even though we know that, we take it all in stride. Where is the rage?

Sunday, January 01, 2006

Thinking Back to Christmas ~

Joy, being joyous— that was the Christmas message. Joy dispersed fear [of the shepherds]. Then peace on earth could happen. Do the suicide bombers know what joy is? Tom knew joy, as he was dying. The source of our joy is Christmas, the birth of the Savior.

Letting Days Pass By ~

How I used to hang on to the days, holding them back, regretting their passing. Let them pass— there is no holding. Allow them carry to where they are leading, giving thanks.

New Years's Concert ~

Was privledged to attend the New Years's Concert: Handel's Messiah in Freiburg, Germany. Choir of Claire College, Cambridge. Freiburg Baroque Orchestra. René Jacobs. A sublime rendering, three hours of worship. Singing to our God.