Your daughter is the child
of your heart. She carries
you and your lover in her face
and in her mind.
Your daughter is the child
of your heart. She carries
you and your lover in her face
and in her mind.
We will search the world,
and whenever we return
it will still remain for us.
And what is different today,
from all other days in the week?
Today I rest.
Today I only nourish
and I only reflect.
I share with my family
gratitude and light.
A woman
takes her body
to war,
her armor and her vessel.
What most men do not
understand
is the courage
required to
be free
in the walls
of objectification.
I approach the light as the mother to abundance and the creator of feeling.
I chose you and I choose me to be the only one in my spaces during evenings.
Each hand has
a story of where
it was touched
and where it will touch,
the fingertip’s
grace, the lace that adorns
the edge of a border.
I will
keep your
hands
to my eyes
with a home
in our shared
soul.
I save my shekels
in the pocket
of my soul’s
cardigan. She will
wonder forever.
In meeting you
I meet myself.
At the unanswered
telephone
you leave your
aggression.
We have
the same goal.
To relate to one
another.
To share something
with someone.