Photo: Atara Katz
When your mind wants one truth
But all facts show another,
Will you see what is there
Or mold sooth as you’d rather?
When you seek to believe
What you wish
Not what’s real,
Will you claim truth a fraud
Or urge gyp
Be revealed?
For The Daily Post
Photo: Atara Katz
I am mesmerized by this photo of the guide guiding other guides in the Judea Desert. His finger is pointing at the very small spot their location represents, onto a map where the complete area isn’t much larger than the square mileage of New Jersey …
I love how his exacting indication contrasts with the vast dunes, hills, and mountains undulating far into the horizon behind him … How the vivid topographical colors on the map contrast with the subdued palette of the landscape …
To me this photo also tells the story of the limited perception one may have of the true scale of things: The size of our cells in relation to our body; our human form compared to the vast Earth; the Earth’s size in the Milky Way; our galaxy as a dot among other dots scattered through the universe like barely a pinprick on a map.
Photo: Amitai Asif
Be your own kind of
Exceptional.
Not inherently better than others
Not more entitled
Yet still unequivocally
Uniquely
Equipped
To be the best that you can be
And do the most good you can do
As you.
For The Daily Post
Photo: Amitai Asif
Do not be fooled to think
That clouds combed
Into neat white lines
Mean that the artful skies
Have suddenly
Turned tame.
For The Daily Post
Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev
Hand in hand
Up they go
Mom and child
Scaling sand
Readying for
Slide-down fun.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge
Photo: Chagit Moriah-Gibor
Believe we can.
Believe we will.
Believe the way is there
Still,
To achieve.
Believe good lasts.
Believe hearts care.
Believe compassion
Matters,
Everywhere.
For The Daily Post
Photo: Atara Katz
As the surface of the water
Licks the surface of the sky
The depths of both
Stay hidden
Under aquamarine alibis.
For The Daily Post
Photo: Inbar Asif
Bathed in magic purple light turned pink turned orange-gold,
Along the banks of river swam since days of old,
A raft of mama-ducks leisure their ducklings home.
The stage is set to hushed repose
Incipient characters rush forth
Turn simmering muse to full on prose.
∼ ∼ ∼ ∼ ∼
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Photo: Cuba, Inbar Asif
My immediate association to today’s word prompt of “Elastic ” was about the dire need for more flexibility. How important it is we be able to curl our mind around the bend of preconception so we can appreciate beyond “our idea of beautiful” or “our opinion of correctness.” It’s become fashionable to be rigidly unyielding, to confront instead of listen, to seek conformity instead of be accommodating.
As if acceptability lives by a single yardstick and Photoshop.
We cover over imperfections. We discard or deny any marring exists. We seek the shiny new. People get judged more by their circumstance of birth than by how pliable their hearts are or how truly resilient they have proven to be in holding on to kindness even in the face of oh-so-much that wasn’t.
As I wrote this a notification appeared for Steve McCurry’s post about the “Art of Imperfection” and the power of Wabi-Sabi — the Japanese practice of finding harmony and beauty in what is simple, natural, and modest, where transience and imperfection are part of the aesthetic. How perfectly apt.
Here’s to beauty in the marred.
For The Daily Post
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