A Different Kind Of Home

A different kind of home

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

A moment

For the memory of

A different kind of home,

Where sun sparkles

On the water

And you feel your soul

Fold along the crease

Of rolling foam,

And where your spirit

Sings the song of places

It has long known

How to roam.

 

 

 

Desert Reflection

desert pool AmitaiAsif

Photo: Amitai Asif

 

In the middle of the desert

Where the dirt stretches far,

Hope ripples atop a small

Opaque reservoir,

That come night reflects

Heaven’s traveling star.

 

 

For Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Rectangles and Squares

 

 

Blessings and a Whisper

Photo: Sue Vincent

 

Lush grass now grew over the span of stones, though none had grown there in the many years when the passage of feet had mowed and flattened any seedling that had found a crack in which to nestle.

The water gurgled as it had, though, flowing like a ribbon of careless abandon underneath. Incoming. Through. Not one look back. Away.

She wondered if the fish silvering in the stream were the descendants of the ones who’d flapped among the rocks and dove out of the reach of all manner of two-legged hunters. Their instincts certainly remained the same.

Like hers.

Honed by years of flight, and generations of bare escape from calamity and disaster and all manner of two-legged hunters’ spread of misery.

For centuries the stones of the old bridge had been the thoroughfare of goods and news — both good and not — from isolated farms to the town’s market and from the town into the farms, and in that order. It had withstood war and fights and blight and playful dares and cruel shove-overs. It streamed with rain and baked with sun and creaked with ice and endured more than one direct hit of lightning. It had heard the laughter of small children and the cries of same, sometimes not much later after. Where rugged wheels and heavy hooves had carved ruts of rattling passage, now weeds took hold to cover any sign of man.

It stood deserted, and perhaps relieved, since the new and wider bridge was built a bit further downstream. The modern pathway accommodated simultaneous travel in both directions as it carried the weight of the machines that belched dark stains onto its tar.

She’d been warned against attempting to put any weight on the old bridge. They all were. “It’s held by no more than blessings and a whisper,” her grandmother had cautioned. “One step onto the wrong stone and it could collapse.”

And yet, it had outlasted both Grandmother’s life and Mother’s and seemed poised to outlast hers, as well. Perhaps blessings and a whisper were better mortar than the speeding up of time.

“And you don’t have much long to wait to outlast me,” she murmured as she walked to the water and bent to dip her palm. Cold.

As she would be, sans blessings or a whisper, before much more water churned indifferently along, passed under the bridge, and was gone.

 

 

 

For Sue Vincent’s WritePhoto Challenge

 

In Motion

In motion AdiRozenZvi

Photo: Adi Rozen-Zvi

 

And the water rushed

From the top

Of the mountain

To the valley below,

Urged by the

Perpetual motion

Of life in

Quenching flow.

 

 

For the Wits-End Challenge: Motion

 

It’s A Breeze

nyc reservoir 2 NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Ripples speed

With the breeze

Whipping small waves

With ease

On the surface

Of these

Waters guarded

By trees.

 

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Breeze

 

Water Rise

water rise NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Water rises

Like ice

From warm oceans,

To mimic islands.

 

 

For the Wits End Weekend Photo Challenge: drops

(FWIW: The photo was taken on a phone, through a plastic screen, from a speedboat in full throttle while it bounced on the wake of another …  It was fun. It was wild. Focus wasn’t to be had …)

Ducky Reflections

duck reflection InbarAsif

Photo: Inbar Asif

 

Is the duck in the water?

Is the duck in the sky?

Is she swimming to perch

On a roof dunked nearby?

Did the house lean to water

Does the mud, garden make?

Are my eyes seeing mirrors

Is my mind still awake?

 

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Reflection

 

Life’s Elixir

 

water land NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

In the cradle of life

Where all breathing

Begins

Rocks the ebb

Of all else

That we are

Deep within.

 

For the Sunday Stills Challenge: Water

 

A Fountain’s Woes

blow SmadarHalperinEpshtein (2)

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

Through summer’s heat or winter’s snows

He stony-faced

Nonetheless blows

A flow of life

That never slows.

The step of people passing by

Is all he knows.

 

 

For Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge