By Audrey Alma Meyer

Capturing what I felt

Shook my whole self—

Something about my “me”

In division.

On a non-rainy weekend,

As a family,

We went to the Forest of Soignes

For a Sunday walk.

I remember

An unusual state—

While we were walking,

I was holding my parents’ hands,

My body

With them,

My head

Kilometers away.

I was here,

I was there.

One part here,

One part there.

That other part

Was in Israel.

Saying “Israel”—

A nice, melodic name.

An aura, a flavor—

There, there,

So different

From where I am.

Rainy cold—sunny hot.

Cloudy—clear sky.

Dark green—light green.

Wettish—dusty.

Apple smell—citrus smell.

Bricks—stones.

Discoveries,

Contrasts,

Mysteries,

Outcast.

Longing—

Here you are,

In so many different forms.

Platonic love:

They don’t know I love;

I love far away,

I love secretly.

Closer to my mother

When she is far away,

My son shows his love—

I, less able to show mine.

A bit of everywhere...

Me, here and there.

Stronger—

The sense of smell.

Sharper—

The sense of visual memory.

Met this part,

Met that part—

Together, apart?

Who knows?

Who draws the line?

I may hold permanently

An arch

And an arrow

To aim

As far as possible—

To cross over,

Beyond,

Ever beyond.

In division,

My wholeness.

Let these pieces be assembled,

Or let them be scattered.

Remoteness,

Nearness—

A never-ending dance,

In between tolerance

And deliverance.