Photo: Atara Katz
As the surface of the water
Licks the surface of the sky
The depths of both
Stay hidden
Under aquamarine alibis.
For The Daily Post
Outer Surface
Photography
The Bewitching Hour
Photo: Inbar Asif
Bathed in magic purple light turned pink turned orange-gold,
Along the banks of river swam since days of old,
A raft of mama-ducks leisure their ducklings home.
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Accommodating
Photo: Cuba, Inbar Asif
My immediate association to today’s word prompt of “Elastic ” was about the dire need for more flexibility. How important it is we be able to curl our mind around the bend of preconception so we can appreciate beyond “our idea of beautiful” or “our opinion of correctness.” It’s become fashionable to be rigidly unyielding, to confront instead of listen, to seek conformity instead of be accommodating.
As if acceptability lives by a single yardstick and Photoshop.
We cover over imperfections. We discard or deny any marring exists. We seek the shiny new. People get judged more by their circumstance of birth than by how pliable their hearts are or how truly resilient they have proven to be in holding on to kindness even in the face of oh-so-much that wasn’t.
As I wrote this a notification appeared for Steve McCurry’s post about the “Art of Imperfection” and the power of Wabi-Sabi — the Japanese practice of finding harmony and beauty in what is simple, natural, and modest, where transience and imperfection are part of the aesthetic. How perfectly apt.
Here’s to beauty in the marred.
For The Daily Post
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Walkabout
Photo: Amitai Asif
In the monotonous pace of desert hikes, there lies a meditative calm: as wispy trails rise and descend, as footpaths curl around a bend, as dirt turns palettes of light and shade, as layers pressed in rock clutch eras so long gone, they are quite literally written in stone.
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Pedestrian
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
This photo makes me smile.
The vistas and the light and play of shade and stream and sun, yes … But more than anything, the path and the story it tells: the measured step of the dad with the baby on his back, keeping one eye on the older one; the exuberant skip of the boy; the plastic bag tied to the father’s carrier, containing who knows what but probably some leftover drink and snack; the other people in the background, strolling, skipping, taking in the fresh air and the sights.
A timeless story. Set in any place, in every language. Humans walking from one place to another, the oldest mode of transport since we’d swung down from the trees to become bipedal and free up our hands.
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Location, Location, Location
Photo: Dvora Freedman
In spite of crowded quarters
There evidently is a draw
To hanging
One’s own nest
In environs of unquestioned
Popularity.
For The Daily Post
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Encircle
Photo: Inbar Asif
How much will it help
If we can
Get ourselves out of our own corners,
Out of righteous
Stiffened chins
For right or wrong?
Maybe round out those
Hardened edges
So we no longer must
Contrast
One side
With another,
Or need to confront
A person’s sigh
With slight or fault.
Can we
Perhaps
Find common ground
In what may be beyond
All argument:
If we rotate
Long enough
Around a circle
We will eventually
See
More than
Our current
Vantage point.
For The Daily Post
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Life in a Window
Photo: Inbar Asif
The stories told
In windows.
The sound of small feet
Represented
In a princess nightgown
Drying
Sheltered
By other clothing
Under a small awning
Behind
Weathered bars
Bracketed by
An antenna
And a plant.
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Time To Launch
Photo: Inbar Asif
Time to launch
Growth spurts of kindness.
Time to set sail
Onto good.
Time to commence
Paths of compassion,
To pitch a better course,
Away from shoals
Of crass and
Greed
Toward a truer way
To heal, succeed, and
Lead.
For The Daily Post
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Picture Window
Photo: Atara Katz
The shot. The view.
The frame. The framed.
The light. The sight.
The day ahead.
Nuf said.
Na'ama Yehuda 
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