Photo: Ofir Asif
Awaken to what never should have
Taken place,
Yet had.
The millions
Whose lives were snuffed by calculated horror
Tattooed hate,
Enslavement, and
Smoky clouds.
Remember it,
Because such evil
Should not be allowed,
And yet there are the voices
Still denying.
There are those
Who would repeat,
Who relish violence and
Lament “not finishing the job.”
Awaken,
To what never should have
Taken place.
Yet had.
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
What’s a view
To you?
Memories of times
Long gone
Askew?
The roads since traveled
But still
Due?
The sights you did not know
You will one day reclaim
Anew?
What is a view
To you?
This post is dedicated to memories of all childhoods and sunsets, times gentle and not, and to Frank’s beloved pooch, Ransom.
Photo: Amitai Asif
We all want to be cherished,
To be known by our name.
But like flowers in meadows,
We’re alike, not the same.
It does not do to lump us
Identical, in one frame.
For like leaves of a tree,
We’re alike, not the same.
Varied hopes, many wishes,
Different dreams of acclaim.
Like the shells on a shore,
We’re alike, not the same.
Each of us has the power,
To bring hope or bring shame.
Pick just one of us too early,
And the world’s never the same.
For The Daily Post
Assay the cost of
Apathetic heads
Or cheeks that turn
Again
The other way.
Know the high price of
Silence that
Lets massacre
Take hold for yet
Another day.
Do not give in.
Do not let up.
Step forth
And raise your voice
In truth
So it rings clear
Above the fray.
For The Daily Post
tltweek92
Bathed in light
Wreathed in night
May your spirit gain height.
Photo: Ofir Asif
Some photos of a layered world aren’t pretty. Some are there to remind us of history that shouldn’t have happened yet did: People stacked in slave ships’ holds. People forced to march. People warehoused in concentration camps. People massacred. People just like us … stripped of dignity. Dehumanized.
And yet. People they each were. Each one a universe of thoughts and soul and feelings. Each one worthy. Each a human being.
Layered in the bowels of our collective histories are memories that hurt as the agony they resurrect is peeled away so they be seen. And yet they may be there exactly to remind us what we should know … and never repeat.
Photo: Amitai Asif
Like pebbles on the beach
Like grains of sand
Like leaves upon the trees
Like flowers in a meadow
May we never be alone
In sorrow
And in hope.
May we find solace
In each other
And may compassion
Weave heart strands together
So we remember
How alike we are
Each one its own true flower
Each one part of the whole
In sorrow
And in hope.
For The Daily Post
Tribute in Light — Photo: DOD
On the eve of 9/11
In this city that has been forever changed
As it had its core humanity
Revealed
In uncountable acts of kindness
Under devastation,
I revisit
The day
The sky grew dark
With smoke
And hearts broke open
With compassion.
For more information on tomorrow night’s Tribute in Light
For the National September 11 Memorial & Museum.
Photo: Kathryn Cameron
This is my second response to this week’s photo-challenge. However, I post it not for me but in memory of the photographer who’d taken it, Kathryn Cameron. This week marks five years since her passing and she is deeply missed by all who knew her. I know she’s thought of every single day.
Kathryn had sent me this photo of Swiss Chard from that day’s Farmer’s Market haul. She was washing the greens and something about that leaf’s structure and composition led her to position it on the window-sill and photograph it.
Beyond the stunning beauty of this natural masterpiece of leaf, I remember finding the pink veins as somehow representative of the tenacious carriers of both nutrients and chemotherapy inside Kathryn, who at the time was battling a recurrence of the cancer that would not long after take her life. The vibrant green and light shining through mirrored Kathryn’s indomitable spirit and her love of nature and all growing, flowering, living things. The leaf, placed against the sky, became a miniature Tree of Life, the manifestation of her loving heart and dedication to healing pain and trauma, offering succor, and living as a compassionate soul upon this earth. Now in the beyond.
This post is for you, Kathryn.
I love you more.
Photo: O. Asif
May the grain of the past
Tell the story.
May history speak
Of the truth
That must
Never be buried
Like heads in the sand,
Or in hesitant voices
That won’t take a stand.
May the stain of the past
Be the guide to these times
So no alleged ‘fine men’
Torch-lit hate in the night
Once again propagate
Let return
Evil’s blight.
For The Daily Post
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