Photo: Inbar Asif
He lay himself
Bare
On the ground.
Stripped into
A fraction of his
Former self, yet
In his memory
A giant
Still,
And let the blanket of
Red
Caress him
Through to the
Other side of life,
And into the
Eternal
Sleep.
For the dVerse poetry challenge: red
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Of all scenes
And joys and sorrows,
Of all the steps
And breaths
And sense,
There is the ebb and flow
And stillness,
That makes this
Movement
My heart’s
Place.
Photo: Sue Vincent
They filed into the toothy circle, a long double line, holding hands over the green strip that split them apart.
The stone pillars stood, immobile, ever present, waiting.
There have always been golden fields in all directions. Wild, then cultivated. The rustling of the ripened plants replacing a hush that would otherwise feed unease.
For there will be no voice heard.
No word.
No song.
No shout.
Nothing said.
Just a long line of humility, stepping up the path and through the eye of the ancient circle. Waiting to be cleansed.
To be whole.
To be seen.
To walk on.
Ahead.
Out the other side and down the second path where a widening triangle fanned into the distant horizon, mirroring the measure of relief.
And from the far far spaces, well beyond the hills, the sound of voices, whispers freed, a humming on the breeze.
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Small and humble,
It fills bellies,
When there’s no
Choice of grain.
The green leaves,
The tiny fruit,
Pantry for
Times of pain.
For the Sunday Still’s challenge: #Close and #Green
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
In the big scale
Of things
Where watershed moments
Froth and fall in
Flush forward,
Each of us but a dot
Drenched in mist
Hoping life
Flows without
A fast-forward.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Scale
Photo: Amitai Asif
As her eyes finally
Closed
And her breath
Not returned,
She knew
What awaited her
Just
‘Round the bend:
A new journey
Ascends
Life beyond
Epoch’s end.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Epoch in 27 words
Note: Dedicated to all who face the final journey … and thus to all … for we all would. May we walk life’s path the way we can and should.
Photo: Morgan Petroski on Unsplash
She peeled away the stale layers
Of sorrow,
The sheets that wrapped around the core
Of what had once held
Grins.
And underneath the soot of tears
And grit
And grief
She found the gold that had been
Hidden
Soft against reality’s biting teeth.
For the dVerse quadrille challenge: Peel
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Still
The promise of day sweeps
Broad calm in its sway,
And the sun,
Rising gold
Lights new stories
Untold.
For the Sunday Stills Photo Challenge: Early
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
Never quite able to move beyond the yearning,
Formed into a pose
Between desire and
Response,
They are frozen, sculptured into something
That cannot become reality
Despite constant striving,
Their despair exposed
At a heartless ornamental pond.
Still their eyes do not the silent gaze drop.
Even as their hands are
Locked away from the ability to
Enfold,
Set in stone they are forever reaching
For an embrace
That cannot
Form.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Sculpture in 71 words
Photo: Ofir Asif
Twixt the tethers of Heaven
And Earth,
Swings the trust
In the ropes
That you’d learned but
Perhaps
Did not quite
Yet test out.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Action
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