The languorous nights of summer

are already a distant memory.

The chilly mornings tug at us

like an insistent suitor

begging for a dance

You’ve known the bitterness

of love gone stale,

the plague of war,

the awful trembling of the earth

beneath your feet.

And I the pain of grievous loss,

the emptiness of solitary nights.

We are plants

inclining to the light,

thirsting for the rain,

hoping for the best.

Let me hold you

like a sacred Torah

showered by a million kisses.

Let  me paint your lips with honey

to make your new year sweet.

Let us awaken

at the shofar’s last, long blast

to a year as endless

as a mountain view,

as generous as the sea.

(originally published in Voices Israel Anthology, 2014)