No more for him, the joys of spring,
Or summer’s gentle breeze,
Or autumn’s hue, first winter’s snow,
And elegant leafless trees.
Or to sit and watch the setting sun,
The Galaxies a-glow,
The Great Bear, Plough, the Milky Way,
Nature’s star studded show.
No more the blackbird’s song to thrill,
Soothing, serene, forlorn,
The fox away, the bunny at play,
In a field of golden corn.
Nor to hear the cry of the infant babe,
As the cleansing water is poured,
Or young love’s boast,
on their wedding day toast,
To a future, where dreams are all stored.
No more the wisdom that comes with age,
With trials, happiness, and tears,
Golden memories of day’s that are gone,
From hearts that are still young in years.
No more the Sacred Host to raise,
The greatest trial of all,
Heaven and earth in sweet embrace,
Creation bows in awe.
Auschwitz, death camp, ‘41
Maximilian Kolbe, his freedom gone,
Francis Gajowniczek, beside him stands,
Their future now, in the tyrant’s hands.
From among the rows of those pityfull souls,
Pounding hearts came through,
As the surly guards walked swiftly past,
“You, and you, and you”.
Francis stepped out, a desolate wretch,
For now he sensed the end,
But through his tears, he glimpsed again,
Maximilian, a forever friend.
He took his sentence upon himself,
His gift was total and free,
Amid the despair, St. Kolbe gave hope,
To Gajowniczek, and humanity.
