In between my fingers

As the storm waters recede
I am left in the aftermath
Calculating the destruction,
The price of each wound;
I weigh them in:
A calm emptiness remains.

Attempting to chase the raging waves
Into the horizon of their flight
Is like trying to catch the fading sun.
Step back and embrace its disappearance
Into a palette of orange blue and grey;
Allow it to disperse into the nothingness
From which it arose.
Do not try to prevent the next moon from rising,
You will be there –
Howling and

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Aya Alon

Aya Alon is a clinical psychologist and poet from Israel.

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