I am made of love
Though I forgot me by the
gates-so near to it
Becoming
is one part
of being
Things go there to be forgotten as they remember. The hues of brown and dips in dunes and mountains. Full beauty. I pour sage tea over my wounds. I hear your story. Not like me, not like you. Though we are the same. The desert is mine and yours.
What is silence with many mouths? An arch, a love, sacks of honey. Pulled from the root of the fruit. The root of its void. A stronger silence burns the fire. A stronger love becomes it.
Love of night
is so delicate
it keeps blooming
And in it
I find love
even in
the touch of a shadow
I
Without a promise
I expect
II
After three years in the Negev
one may
understand
This light
calls itself
the name of its creator
made in its image
made in its desire
To part with heaven
is to mourn its beauty
every day
I.
To say it is better than the other
is purposeless
they will not meet
II.
It is as archaic
as love
falling into oneself,
forgetting the taste of water
or the sound of it
Queen of selves
crocheted
into one
piece of
land
Protection of self
is not looking in your eyes
when you speak
It is coming apart
like the separation of two lovers
watching themselves
from above
or from the sand
In case they do not remember
I come from a place where my soul ignites
To go there is to go up
Nearer to peace, nearer to Hashem
Thank you
and praise you
for building this land,
for letting me live in it
My mind says to return
To go to you, my dream
Of Mirrors
There is a
again
and again
a want to be
without
A want to be
one
In the morning light
there is a calling
for peace
It is the weight of stars
pulling life from me
Wind
and the ability to say
enough
My two aspirations
to love
and to remember
From Jordan to Akko
shalom or salaam
song is the way
when one voice nearly
overpowers
After three ghosts,
there is one
so near to love
that it flies from
earth to heaven
I cannot help you
but give you to it
in fragments
Wanting with your eyes
full passion
like the sister of self
I am nearly alone
with your eyes
the rest of you left
Every endeavor
that without
love of self
cannot be replicated
is worth doing
Two paths
leading to the same
destination
With one
foot on the border
and the other
in my home
I look at your smile
in the photo
the smile of a child
who is now an angel
as I touch your grave
and I
remember