The Pillar

Photo: Sue Vincent

 

The youngsters always met by The Pillar.

Their parents had. Their grandparents had, and the great-grands before that and on and on till time before time. It was a rite of passage of sort. A congregation-point for those just past the threshold from children to adults.

There was no timetable for how long it was before a set of youths made way for those younger still. Yet the time never seemed to be very long, no matter the outward circumstances.

In olden times such changeover was marked by many youths’ marrying shortly after adult bodies and responsibilities were taken on, as it was believed that matrimony was the lead to sensibilities. Any youths lagging behind in house-making would soon enough stop visiting The Pillar anyway, perhaps as it would feel unseemly for them to be seen hobnobbing with total greenhorns to the adult world.

In modern times, with childhoods that stretched well beyond the bounds any elder would consider reasonable, and with less children in town to nip at the heels of those frequenting The Pillar, youths nonetheless rarely mingled by it for much longer than they would’ve in the past. Just their chronological age had shifted some, from puberty to closer to the end of high-school.

Looking back, few could tell exactly what about The Pillar had drawn them to the location. Sure, the isolation allowed for some actions full-fledged adults would likely frown on (though they’d done the same — and sometimes worse — themselves), but there were plenty other isolated places to find privacy in. Blustery in winter and mosquito-swarmed by summer, the field where The Pillar stood was not exactly the height of comfort. Still by tradition or something more, the youth were drawn to it like moths to light.

It was the fairies, some whispered, magic of the Fair Folk, conjured so they could feed upon the newly discovered energies of youth, necessary to the Fairies’ sustained immortality. Others pooh-poohed the folklore, perhaps unnerved by the notion that anything but their own will had caused them to view as irresistible what later on looked quite the dreary spot.

“It was just the adventure,” the latter would grumble. “Every child in town grew up dreaming of being old enough to go to The Pillar. Of course we wanted to finally do so.”

Still they could not explain what had made them suddenly wish to visit it. Or why it had just as suddenly lost its charm.

When pressed, they’d shrug that “it’s been there as long as anyone remembers.” As if that was explanation enough.

Lore or not, the youngsters always met by The Pillar.

And there The Pillar stood. Slanted by age or forces beyond comprehension. Till another age of the earth would come.

 

 

For Sue’s Thursday Photo Prompt: Timeless

 

The Balance

Photo: Sue Vincent

 

 

She did not understand where the castle had gone.

Tumbled walls

Like broken bones.

 

But the well was still there,

And the sword

Wrapped in stone,

Had waited stored

Well ensconced.

 

She took the hilt

Spelled the spell

And the blade pulled out

Clean

Glowing green,

Showing

All was still wrong

Just as all was still well.

 

She took a deep breath

And exhaled.

Because though

Times had changed

At least the balance

Remained.

 

 

For Sue’s Thursday WritePhoto Prompt: Blade

 

Chim-Chimney

Chimneys inbarasif

Photo: Inbar Asif

 

Old slate well licked by lichen

And marbled

With moss,

Recalls clouds swirling

High

To kiss sky

With their smoke.

Jagged edges

Of years spent in

Rain, sun

And wind,

Hold with pride

To a chimney

That time hasn’t

Yet thinned.

 

 

For The Photo for the Week Challenge: chimneys and fireplaces

 

 

Carved Time

ancient cyprus1 SmadarHalperinEpshtein (2)

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

Long years had

Carved the stone

And cleaved to blue

The sky,

Yet puffy clouds

Still gawk as they

Meander

Idly by.

 

 

For the December Squares Challenge

 

 

Around The Bend

tltweek150 JanGenge via Upsplash

Photo: Jan Genge via Upsplash

 

They ran around the metal that machines had bent

And right across the bend of time

Into handmade medieval.

 

 

For Three Line Tales

 

Heart Memories

Kathtyn and Carol Jan08

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Good friends to me,

To each other,

Their hearts and souls

Brimming love.

A decade passed

Since this photo,

And both had grown

Angel wings.

Sweet moments

Of memories

That won’t ever

Depart.

 

 

Dedicated to Kathryn and Carol, forever thankful to have known you. You are forever in my heart.

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Memories

 

Bridged Time

child on bridge SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

Little feet

Crossing stones

Little hand

Holding phone.

Do his toes

Marching on

Note how time

Isn’t gone?

Does his heart

Understand

How the stream

Breathes calm

Underneath

His young mind,

Singing songs

Burbling home?

 

 

For Nancy Merrill’s Photo a Week Challenge: Bridges

 

Monkeying Around

Monks AdiRosenZvi

Photo: Adi Rozen-Zvi

 

When chores call

Not all heed

Timeless work,

Patience’s creed.

Restless fingers

Supersede

Newer vistas

To be keyed.

 

For Cee’s Odd Ball Challenge

 

Diagonal Climb

build OsnatHalperinBarlev

Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev

 

The light climbs

Up the walls,

Its ancient pace

Never stalls,

Letting sun

Follow earth,

On a path

To rebirth.

 

 

For Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge

 

Time Travel

Time Travel SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

Out of place

Out of time

As the half-hour

Chimes

Periods bend

And history glides

In past with present

Side by side.

 

 

For Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge