Favorite Place

ocean curl NaamaYehuda

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.

 

 

For Sunday Stills: Places

 

 

Early Light

sunrise1 NaamaYehuda

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

 

 

A Different Kind Of Home

A different kind of home

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

A moment

For the memory of

A different kind of home,

Where sun sparkles

On the water

And you feel your soul

Fold along the crease

Of rolling foam,

And where your spirit

Sings the song of places

It has long known

How to roam.

 

 

 

Zen Essence

calm curl NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

In the moment of the soft swell

Of a calm curl,

The gentle foam

Belays the power of

The waves that lift ocean liners

And cradle whales.

A breath

Before

Exhale.

 

 

Thank you, Terri, for this prompt. Perfect for today. For me, the shore is the ultimate calibrator. I took this photo in Ogonquit, Maine, quite too many years ago. Time to go back. Time to go to the beach. Any beach. For breath, for awe, for space, for zen.

For Sunday Stills: Essence of Zen

 

Safe Angle

australia s.Levenberg4 bw

Photo: S. Levenberg

 

At the edge of the

Down Under

Where water angles

Into sea,

There’s an old pool

Where you safely

Hold the sharks at bay,

And be.

 

 

For Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Lines and angles

 

Endless Harmony

a solitary figure on a beach against a wide ocean.

Photo: Sue Vincent

 

She’d never have believed the vastness had she not been there to see it.

In person.

On the edge of endlessness.

The breath of eons crashing at her feet.

The spray of ancient rhythms that had been there

All along.

Through war and storm and hope and flood and cold and warm and days like this when no one but herself was there to witness it.

She’d never have believed the power that it held, contained within each curl of wave, in every roll of whitecap licking sand.

It filled her.

With awe and ache and gnawing yearning to something that went beyond her words and into thoughts unformed, or perhaps ones made of memories in utero: the hiss, the beat, the drums of hearts.

And this.

Another memory

To merge into

In endless harmony.

 

 

 

For Sue Vincent’s WritePhoto (2nd week)

 

Fury

Photo prompt © Sandra Crook

 

He retreated to behind the fence during low tides and sharpened his claws on the aging timbers. He nursed his rage on fantasy and fed his fury on abandoned sea-foam. Some days the seething rose a hurricane that only freezing wind subdued into a smolder. He hissed. He breathed. He knew. He waited.

The time would come.

Waiting both allayed and fanned his urgency. He scraped his restless agony into the wood, that hewed abomination they’d forced onto his bay to tame it. As if it, he, could be. Tamed.

When time returned he’d vanquish them and show no remedy.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

Line In The Water

Line in the water NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Draw a line in the water

To hold a boundary

For speed,

Where the motors

Rush inward,

For horizon

To meet.

 

Float a line strung together

Of what floats

And won’t sink,

So you can

After sunset

Draw it home

And night

Concede.

 

 

For Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: In or on the water