This day brought a tumult of emotions and insights I cannot begin to unwind. They are too fresh.
The National Museum in Warsaw houses a display both compassionate and unexpected. Of course, this space would pay homage to those who lost everything at the hands of the dutiful, compelled by the deranged.
The ravages and atrocities of World War II are remembered here, in the hope that they’d never be repeated – no matter the protagonists in any conflict.
As I watched “songs of the Concentration Camps”, I was deeply moved. It’s too soon to comment, yet, on this …
As I left the museum, a storm brewed on the horizon, gathering its fury behind charcoal clouds. A balloon-seller, trailing his bouquet of colour and light and air, made a run for shelter. The counterpoint struck me:
Dull, grey, ebbing life, clinging to hope in shades of grey, where hope was an infinitesimal drop of near-nothingness on the horizon of less-than-a-century ago …
Its counterpoint: the bright dots of joy and dramatic sky, pulsing with vitality and the promise of life hanging heavily in the pregnant clouds.
Then and now.
Death and life.
Despair and joy.
What an incredible day.