
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
In the midst of it all
At the center
Of streets
Big or small
Rain or shine
Grab a seat, hold on tight
Take a spin
On life’s Merry-Go-Round.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
In the midst of it all
At the center
Of streets
Big or small
Rain or shine
Grab a seat, hold on tight
Take a spin
On life’s Merry-Go-Round.
For The Daily Post

A Path To Walk
Take a stroll in open air
Amble one step
And then another.
Spot a marker
Stay the path
Upon this great Earth Mother.
For The Daily Post

Amsterdam; Photo: Inbar Asif
As the light
Breathes the day
Into soon coming night
And the city spreads
Molten gold sighs
Of beauteous delight,
The sky paints
Warm reflections
Of the time just gone by
Onto glinting canals
Rocking calm lullabies.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
In a massive hall of pompous busts
And naked marble edge
One must
Take time
To rest one’s head.
For The Daily Post

Guatemala Duo; Photo: Inbar Asif
When shut-eye weighs your lids
Yip patrol
Comes on call
While the third wheel can perch
On the sill
‘bove the bench.
For The Daily Post

“The Other NYC” ; Photo credit: Inge Vandormael
There is the hum of traffic in soft undertone. The contralto of people punctuated by the crescendo of a child who was refused a treat or dropped his toy. The bark of dogs weaves in: one low and deep, another yipping in the determination of the pocket-small. A truck lumbers over a rut in the road, a phone rings, a door slams. A bus beeps as it kneels for passengers, again when it rises up. An ambulance wails, its falsetto undulating in inverse proportions to distance and urgency. A firetruck follows in a fortissimo of horns. In the relative silence that ensues, a bird chirps and a pigeon coos response. Pianissimo. The city breathes. Then a traffic light changes, a motor revs, and a few notes of rap beat an open-window-escape. Another bus rolls to a stop, beep-kneels, sighs-up. More people’s voices modulate the presto of a toddler’s laugh. The rumbling of a motorcycle answers the low groan of a heavy truck. More dogs yip and bark. Someone inexplicably whistles Brahms.
City Symphony. An orchestra of urban life in virtuoso intervals.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Dvora Freedman
When life envelops
What will be
In cloaks of misty
Mystery
And fog,
Hold on
To the soft promise
In the droplets
That infuse the air
With fractionated light
And hope
For verdure
And potentiated growth.
For The Daily Post

Do not settle for substandard conduct.
For unacceptable ways of talking to and of another
Even if – especially if – they are among those you disagree with
Or maybe prefer to not understand.
Do not settle for substandard leadership.
For unbecoming ways of working with some who oppose your views
And yet are part of you
Part of your country
Part of what holds a mirror to your blind spots
And what makes you into
Who you are and can become.
Don’t settle for the substandard fantasy
That misleads you to believe yourself somehow better
Than another
Because of your religion, gender, party, origin, or baseball cap.
You are not.
Better.
We are all of us defined by our actions, not our acronyms.
We can be raised or felled by the choices that we make:
To go low
Or rise above
To sink into the mire
Or to raise the discourse
From the gutter
Back to civilized.
Do not settle for substandard
Language
For slurs and rudeness not fit for the ears of anyone
Let alone our children.
Settle not for the reactivity of hate and violence
Of disdain for the vulnerable
And disregard to others whom you declare guilty by an affiliation
Different than yours.
Do not settle
For substandard influence
When you know better.
Raise the standard.
So those who keep lowering the bar
Not think it has become the norm
To celebrate the rude or bow to the crass
When either are so
Very far
Below par.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Orly Fuchs Galchen
Some lust for power, covet shaming another, feed off anger and ire.
Some desire control, step on laws, trample all, heed no call but their gall.
Some relish what’s cruel, find odd joy in the crude, equate strength with the rude.
In their greed to succeed, they maim truth, cripple fact
And attack anyone who attempts to talk back.
But fear not:
Lust turns old
Greed grows cold
Lies don’t hold.
In the end, it’s foretold:
Truth takes root
Hearts bear fruit
Love unfolds
Life’s real gold.
For The Daily Post

Photo: Paul Dinning
For the pests
Who won’t rest
In their quest
To infest:
I suggest
You divest
Lest
I’ll wrest
Back my nest.
I don’t jest
It is best
As would surely attest
The unblessed
Who’d transgressed
And I had ‘addressed.’
For The Daily Post
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