Central Park, New York City

May NYC2 NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Where waters tide

‘Round canyons

Carved by time

And ice,

Other canyons

Rise

Man-made

To tickle skies.

 

Where greenery

Respite to

Millions

Provides,

Sleep memories

Of others

Who used to there

Reside.

 

Where footfalls mask

The horns of cars

And rustles hold

More sway,

There breathes the city

That like me

Many call home

Today.

 

 

 

For the dVerse challenge: take me with you

 

 

 

To Be Home

ToBeHome NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

To be home

Where the sun kisses

Blooms

On the sly,

And the buildings cannot

Hide reflections

Of sky,

Where new life bursts on forth

Undeterred

Joy unmasked,

And this moment

Outdoors

Is almost all one

Can ask.

 

 

 

For the Lens-Artists Challenge: at home

 

 

Blue Earth

Blue Earth NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

On this Earth Day

As we are all

One,

Cooped in

Holding on,

Blue around the fingertips

Blue around the lips,

Blue in oceans, and

In the reflections of the deep,

Blue in sorrow

Blue as sky lift

Dark sapphire

To the reified aqua

Of hope.

May we rise

Like the sun,

And not forget how

We can

Help each other

Cope.

 

 

For Terri’s SundayStills: Earth

 

 

One Face, A Whole World – Yom Ha’Shoah

 

This is the photo of Sarah Kol (1933-1944), my grandfather’s niece. She was murdered, age 11, along with her mother Ida, my grandfather’s eldest sister, and many others, by the Nazis in Auschwitz-Birkenau.

She is one of the millions lost to the rabid hate the Nazis practiced, spread, and fed.

Each one of those millions lost was an entire lost world.

Each murder left a gaping hole where their lives and accomplishments, their stories, their loves and joys, their children and grand-children who’d never be, would have been, should have been …

My grandfather lost many in his family in the Holocaust.

My grandmother lost many in hers.

Other branches of my family lost loved ones, too.

Many families lost even more.

Some have no one left to remember. Many have no photos. No one to tell their stories.

So we must. As we can. Tell of those we know.

Remember all.

Little Sarah’s is but one face of many.

Hers was a life all its own. Snuffed out but not forgotten.

May her memory be a blessing.

May all their memories be a blessing. Six million. More. So we remember.

So we never forget.

Little Sarah, you were born but a year before my mother. The Nazis killed you, but they could not kill your memory. You live in each of us. The memory of your mother and siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles lives on, too. I see your face in my sisters and many cousins and nieces.

We are you.

And we remember.

 

 

Tasty Gold

Daisy Horse NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Sunshine above

Tasty gold below.

A horse in a city field

Is contentment aglow.

Photographed worlds away

And a mere year ago.

 

 

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Animals

 

 

Travel Home

Travel Home NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Travel home

To where the shadow

Replicates

What your heart knows:

The lives

The parks

The bustling city

That seems so quiet

And yet flows,

Even when appearing

To hold its breath

In forced repose.

 

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Travel

 

 

The Now And There

Distant Stairs NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

In the distance between

The now and

There,

Rises the stair

We all must

Share,

Step by step to

Anywhere

Before the future days

Declare,

The distance we

May finally

Repair.

 

 

For the Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: distance

 

 

Get Connected

Walk with me OsnatHalperinBarlev

Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev

 

Walk with me

Into nature

Where the fresh air

Flows through.

 

Walk with me

As we shelter

Under skies

Me, and you.

 

Walk with me

Hand in hand

Muddy boots

Flowers, too.

 

Let us breathe

And connect

With everything

That is true.

 

 

For the Tuesday photo challenge: Connect

 

 

 

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