
Central Park, NYC (Photo: Na’ama Yehuda)
The more chaotic life becomes
With power hungers gaining ground,
The more determined then I am
To point the beauty that surrounds,
The heart and kindness that abound
And the true peace that won’t succumb.

Central Park, NYC (Photo: Na’ama Yehuda)
The more chaotic life becomes
With power hungers gaining ground,
The more determined then I am
To point the beauty that surrounds,
The heart and kindness that abound
And the true peace that won’t succumb.

Photo: Dvora Freedman
In a world of Divine
Prophecies
Of all kinds,
Little wonder
A Mantis
Folds green limbs
To Life’s design.
This post continues the blogging challenge in which Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day, serves as inspiration a-la the “Daily Prompt.”
Want to join me? Feel free to link to this post on your blog, and/or post a link to your blogpost in the comment section below so others can enjoy it, too. Poetry, photography, short stories, anecdotes: Go for it!
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“Follow” me if you want to receive future prompts, or just pop in when you’re looking for inspiration. Here’s to the fun of writing and our ever-evolving blogging community!

Photo: Amitai Asif
Water-worn by the ages
By the floods
By the rain,
Time has carved
Eras’ layers
Through the rock
Grain by grain.
Scars of years
Line the wadi
To funnel life –
None in vain.

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
In a city that
Never
Sleeps
It soars high,
With the weight of the
World
Hollowed out,
Scraping sky.

Photo: Dvora Freedman
As the first freesia
Bravely blooms
Buds await
In scaly wombs
Till it tastes
Sun’s perfume.

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
Surely all would admit
Something here does not fit
King or not
No one ought
To require this bed
For their camped royal head.

Echium judaeum (Photo: Amitai Asif)
As you walk in the mountains
In wild meadows and deserts
O’er Rocks
Towards the Sun,
Hear the whiskery stalks’ whisper:
“You have seen,
I have grown,
Now be gone.”
Fun fact: The blooms of the Echium Judaeum change color after pollination.

Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev
Half-wildling
Half-tame
She sometimes
Knew her name.
One moment she’d hiss
The next she would purr
To allow or dismiss
You from stroking her fur.

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
There’s a path in the park
Lined by mulch from trees past
So that every step presses
What had grown,
What won’t last.

Photo: Dvora Freedman
Where the green spikes grow tall
And the artichoke blossoms
You just know that the future
Will taste pretty awesome.
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