Mostly Between

August 24, 2023Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Job, Making it work, Meditation, Micro Fiction, Photo prompt, Relationships, Responsibility 14 Comments

“I gotta go,” Ari stuffed a sandwich into her mouth with one hand and a sweater into her bag with the other.

“Wait!” Ella’s eyes remained on her phone’s screen.

“Can’t.” Ari grabbed the keys. “I’ll be late for work.”

She left before Ella said another word, or at least, without hearing it.

They needed her job. Ella, per usual, was “between jobs.”

And I’m mostly between heaven and earth, Ari chuckled. She got into the car, shifted gears, and took a deep breath. Meditation was a crucial part of acrobatics. Even if it was not Cirque, but only shark-diving.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Simple Pleasures

November 2, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing, Yummy Tags: Cherries, dVerse, happiness, Meditation, Poetry, Quadrille, Query, Simple pleasures, Sweetness, Warmth, Writing prompt 33 Comments

Photo: Smadar Epshtein

“What does happiness mean,” she asked,

Her eyes round with the query

Of the lost

Awaiting to be

Found.

“It is the sun warming your skin,” he said,

His own eyes taking on the mist.

“And the unexpected sweetness

Of cherries on your

Tongue.”

For the dVerse quadrille challenge: Happiness

Night Camp

September 14, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Caravan, Contentment, Creative writing, Desert, dVerse, Evening, Flash Fiction, Meditation, Micro-fiction, Moon, Night sky, Prosery 29 Comments

During the days there was glare and heat and baking sand and the parched tongue hoping for good water.

But at night, when they made camp, and the chill spooled at their feet and the camels chewed their cud and the humans picked the last crumbs of quick bread off their lap and the blankets were unrolled and small sounds of conversation carried on the breeze; there was ease, and sweetened tea, and the slowing beats of hearts ready for sleep.

And the sky, a dome of diamonds, flowing over them, the old and young and man and beast, as in their dreams they sleep with the moon and swim in the waters soon to ripple under the sun to the east.

Prosery prompt: “In their dreams they sleep with the moon.”–From Mary Oliver, “Death at Wind River”

For dVerse Prosery challenge

A Silver Light

September 3, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Blue, Dream, Imagery, light, Meditation, Ocean, Poetry, Silver, WritePhoto, Writing prompt 25 Comments

A silver light,

In blue

It was.

A glimmer on

Still

Water.

A place of dream

Of home

It was.

A hope for

Time’s lost

Daughter.

For Sue Vincent’s WritePhoto

Gone Swimming

July 29, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: 100WordChallenge, coping, Creative writing, Dolphins, Dream, Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers, Imagery, Making do, Meditation, Micro-fiction, Swimming 75 Comments

Photo prompt © Jean L. Hays

She spent the day swimming, buoyed by the swell and fall of waves, kissed by the spray of salt, caressed by playful bursts of wind as silvery bodies and slick flippers dipped and slid and spun beside her.

The sun warmed the top of her head, then the tip of her nose and the crests of her knees as she turned to rest and float and face it.

It was like living in a dream.

And it was. A dream.

The stained glass in the open door a portal to what was. The ventilator sighed. She could no longer swim.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

By Design

July 26, 2020July 26, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Current events, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections Tags: Being Human, Bigger plan, Creative writing, Design, kindness, Life Lessons, Meditation, Poetry, RDP, Sunday Stills, Understanding, Writing prompt 27 Comments

Photo by Aditya Wardhana on Unsplash

Perhaps it is, really,

By design

Where we are born

And how we live

And how and when and why

We die.

Perhaps it is

By fate,

That we can love

And we can laugh

And dream

And struggle to let go

Of hate.

Perhaps we’re each

A stitch

In the tapestry

Of an overarching

Plan,

(That we do

Or do not

Understand).

Yet still the truth

Remains,

That our strength is

Bound to fail at

The weakest

Thread.

And that we each have a

Part in

Whether we

Mend

Or shred

The possibilities

Ahead.

For RDP Sunday: Design

And just for fun, also for Terri’s Sunday Stills: Yellow

Perfectly Aligned

July 4, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Poetry, Reflections, Writing Tags: Aligned, Beautiful world, Breathing Space, Creative writing, hope, Insight, Just because, Meditation, Poetry, Syzygy, Vocabulary, Weekend Writing Prompt 29 Comments

ishan-seefromthesky-2d7n2sfYjHY-unsplash

Photo: Ishan @seefromthesky on Unsplash

When the light

Aligns just right

And the ebb and flow

Combine

To sheer insight,

She breathes in

To allow

The soul expanding

Syzygy

Of hope and

Love and

Heart.

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Syzygy in 30 words

The Longest Walk

July 2, 2020July 2, 2020Na'ama Yehuda Anecdotes of Life, Life and love, Meditations, Muse and Flow, Reflections, Writing Tags: Creative writing, Flash Fiction, Meditation, Moment in time, Morning, Mothering, Pause, Photo prompt, Poetry, self-care, Take a moment, WritePhoto 25 Comments

Photo: Sue Vincent

She rose with the sun, her brow still damp with the essence of dream. Soon enough her feet were, too, from dew and from the small drops of silence that mornings bring.

There was little to say, and much space to accompany.

It was a good day.

It had to be.

There will be time much later on, for all the things she might still need, and all the words she may still say, and all the sorrows she no longer wished to borrow.

In the meanwhile, she walked on, crushing dandelions, breathing lavender.

The fields stretched ahead as the disc of light leaned hot against the sky. The air shimmered, dancing in the sun.

Or wavering.

It would not matter, in the long run.

She walked on.

Eventually she’d have to turn around, retrace her steps, return into the pace of tending, bending, sending, lending, fending.

And it would still be a good day.

For the dawn poured the generous morn into her, washing her, filling her, scenting her soul. Step by breath by step by breath, immersed into the longest walk her present moment could recall.

For Sue Vincent’s WritePhoto