I am broken.
Here,
no mother to hold me.
The sound of the wind
like a siren
makes
my heart drop.
Yet everyone else moved on.
Everyone else forgot.
And I am broken.
Do not leave me behind
here.
Home is Where I Am Me
I spot the word
“Home”
scribbled on a page.
What I see is you.
Not four walls
and not a roof.
No freshly painted door
or bright windows.
There are dreams of places, but they are not mine.
What is home?
Not a place anymore.
Not even my beloved country.
It is hidden in your face
and it is you.
Home is in your eyes
the warmest brown,
my favorite color.
Home is your hands.
To see them, to feel them
is to be safe and loved.
Your smile is mine.
When you laugh,
and your eyes squint with joy
my soul lights up.
When someone asks me
“where is home?”
I cannot think of anything
but you.
Loneliness is more daunting
and it is not
being alone.
Quiet Truths
The unnamed thing
exists.
The thing we named
does not.
Or rather, it fell apart.
Blood is not louder than
the sound of rain
on the window
waking up sleeping
children.
Still, I do not prefer the silence.
Just quiet words, quiet truths.
A reminder of something once named
is a reminder of the unknown.
A reminder of a soul who lived
is a reminder of a smile
erased.
I Changed
When it is the last time I see you all your flaws either disappear or are so heightened I cannot bear another moment with you. Either way, it is the last time. If we meet again, it will be the first time.
Closeness
If I were a picture,
a painting in the lobby.
To pass by and adore
but never touch.
Each time I fall in love
it is the first time.
Love is the patient of us both.
The one with wings
who flies over the pain.
חזרה/Return
Who comes from You
may not know where
to find You.
In the dreams
of ancestors
we always were.
What is the cost of
waking up from a dream
filled with despair?
You are infinite light.
You have no limit,
Creator of the world.
The longer the road
the farther I have come.
The more worthwhile is the destination.
I heard they claimed
it was for for You
when we cut off each other’s hands.
A long list of
ways to become
includes isolation.
Who knows
why we crave
some and not others.
Who knows who
belongs to you?
The farthest from me
is still me.
May I always stay with You.
Here,
the best is saved
for you.
No small amount and
nothing is owed.
How heavy it can be
carrying a broken heart
of many generations.
She is an abundance of love,
gentle and strong.
Who knows how far
she traveled to become?
A tear means release.
To build my self, the
core must unravel. I will
face what hides within.