CLAY

If only
we had remained simple clay.

if only
breath did not fill our lungs

if only
we could not hear children cry

if only
we cannot see pain

it’s all within reach of our tenderness
our softness, our orb—

we are living planets rotating
in circles around each other,

we are tied to one another
by silence and motion

and the light of stars
and the darkness that holds it

all together

— Abraham Menashe