Photo: Ofir Asif
They stand frozen in time.
Carving long blunted by
Wind and the loss of names
No one is left
To own,
Decode,
Or understand.
They stand frozen in time.
The saplings reaching up
To the heavens
The only sign of what
Even death cannot
Disband.
For the Sunday Stills challenge: Frozen
Photo: Amitai Asif
“I will wait by the tree,”
She had said.
“At the fork where
The road
Meets the lush, green
Horizon.”
Wait she did,
Day again and again
And a month, and another.
Wait until they had come
Trudging home
From the war,
Wearing smiles, but
Carrying the weight
Of their sorrows
Around them.
For Becca Givens’ Sunday Trees
Photo: Ofir Asif
At the vanishing point
They have passed
To be gassed,
Leaving us
To a world
That forever now must,
Not forget
How the place
Of no return
Has been crossed,
And we none are
The same
For hate’s shadow’s
Been cast.
In the name of those
Vanished
Who shall not be forgot,
We can vow to hold hope,
And let compassion
Outlast.
For Nancy Merrill’s A Photo a Week Challenge: Vanishing Point
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Good friends to me,
To each other,
Their hearts and souls
Brimming love.
A decade passed
Since this photo,
And both had grown
Angel wings.
Sweet moments
Of memories
That won’t ever
Depart.
Dedicated to Kathryn and Carol, forever thankful to have known you. You are forever in my heart.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Memories
“Do you really think you can do it?”
I nodded into my coffee but my heart fluttered an I-don’t-know.
“You’ll ruin the whole thing.” Stacey stuffed the last bite of bagel in her mouth and grabbed her bag, leaving me the clean up. How symbolic.
I rinsed the pot and the grounds swirled like time into the sink.
My eyes gazed out the window. We hadn’t touched Dad’s stuff. The almost-finished totem. His tools.
“You’re good at this,” he’d once said.
His praise had sustained me, but was I good enough to complete the carving that now he never would?
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo: Aviv Rozen-Zvi
Reaching high to the heavens
Rising up
To the sky
A single rose of remembrance
Captured by a
Child’s eye.
So we pause for the many
Hate had barreled
To die,
And remember the courage
Of all who
Violence defy.
Photo: Ofir Asif
For we owe
Them to know
How rows of woe
Not long ago
Came to show
What can grow
If we do not forgo
Those who kowtow
To the lowest of low.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Row
Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev
Fields of Gold
You’ll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley
You’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we walk in fields of gold
So she took her love for to gaze awhile upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down among the fields of gold
Will you stay with me, will you be my love among the fields of barley?
We’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we lie in fields of gold
See the west wind move like a lover so upon the fields of barley.
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth among the fields of gold
I never made promises lightly and there have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left we’ll walk in fields of gold
We’ll walk in fields of gold
Many years have passed since those summer days among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down among the fields of gold
You’ll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky when we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold, when we walked in fields of gold
Here’s the version as sang by Sting in 1993:
And one of my favorite renditions by Eva Cassidy (RIP, Eva, your music goes on):
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Field
Photo: Bugler.com
As salutes recoil
And bugles call
May hearts recall
The arms emptied
And the lives ended
For freedoms defended
As sorrows entwine
With honor defined.
For The Daily Post
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