Ablution

ales-krivec-8EfAYc6GngM-unsplash

Photo: Ales Krivec on Unsplash: Vintgar, Slovenia

 

The Radovna pooled itself and waited for her ablution. Still. Clear. Shattering in its beauty and perfection.

Everything she was not.

Hers was more the unfettered rush, cutting gorges, collecting all manner of debris, and lugging along tumbled things that poked their heads out of the milky froth of living.

There were no still ponds in her being.

She looked at the icicles suspended from rocks above the freezing water. They were guarding it.

From beings that did not deserve to be cleansed.

Like herself.

Hom and Boršt rose above the gorge, patient and unbending. The beech trees on the slopes, stripped bare for winter, rustled as they waited to witness her own naked skin.

Her eyes lifted to the bridge, though she expected no one on it. The area was closed to tourists in the winter. Only the locals came, alone, to seek absolution in the Radovna’s icy bowl.

 

 

For What Pegman Saw: Slovenia

 

Painted Sky

aurora borealis

Photo by Tobias Bjørkli on Pexels.com

 

They woke

To see

The painted sky,

Where spirits

Skated

Angel-winged

On light and

Turquoise dye,

And looped the

Heavens

And the earth

Like stars

Learning to fly.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Aurora in 28 words

 

 

Neck Of The Not So Woods

Neck of the Hood NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

The birds spiral

‘Round the spire

And the bells peal

Half and whole,

As the sky paints blue

Horizons

In a neighborhood

For all.

 

 

For the Lens-Artist Challenge: Around the neighborhood

 

 

Rain Fed Red

Red Anemones AmitaiAsif

Photo: Amitai Asif

 

In the depth

Of the winter,

Where so much

Appears dead,

Plan ahead.

For there are places

Where nature,

Finally rain fed,

Blooms into

Fields

Of red.

 

 

For the One Word Sunday Challenge: Red

For Cee’s FOTD

 

Woolgathering

snow view KarenForte

Photo: Karen Forte

 

Pause, and

Let your mind wander

In waking reverie

To the places where

Tomorrow’s seeds

Are sleeping

Underneath the snowy

Ground,

Wrapped in the arms

Of memories

Of days

Long passed

And others

Yet to come.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Woolgathering in 36 words

 

 

 

Be Like Cabbage

cabbage AmitaiAsif

Photo: Amitai Asif

 

“Be like a flower,” she said,

Wrinkles creasing like sun

‘Round her eyes.

“Be like cabbage, too!”

And she laughed

At my confusion and

Touched a calloused hand

To my cheek

For the umpteenth loving time.

 

“Bloom alone does not fill stomachs,”

She explained

And the years without

Flickered sad behind her smile

But did not interfere.

“Cabbage blooms as pretty as any,

Yet unlike most who wilt

At summer’s end,

It will hold goodness at the ready

To nourish you through winter.”

 

“Be like a flower, then,” she smiled.

“And like a cabbage, too.

For it will sustain you:

Bland or spiced or hot or cold

Until the snow melts

And you have lived to a new spring

And can, one day, grow old.”

 

 

For Cee’s FOTD challenge

 

Warmer Together

April snow2 NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

Come and play

In the snowdrifts

And the cold

Will not bite

We are warmer

Together

And will sleep well

Tonight.

 

 

 

Note: No filter was used. This is the original photo of the colors that day.

 

For Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Hot and/or Cold

 

A Child’s Cheer

hanukkah Chagit MoriahGibor

Photo: Chagit Moriah-Gibor

 

As chilly nights

Churn cold winds

And unclothed trees

Hold branches

In a yearn

To huddle near,

Cherish the fleeting

Flowing moments

Of memory’s chalices

Filling with cheer,

As a child

Chants a prayer

And gently lights

History’s challenge

To despair

Lack

And fear.

 

 

 

For the dVerse Quadrille Monday challenge: Cheer

 

Snow Angel

snow angel ChagitMoriahGibor

Photo: Chagit Moriah-Gibor

 

An angel had been here

But it is here no more.

All it left is an imprint

Of what could be, before.

Will it come back

To see us?

Will it our wishes grant?

Deep in sparkling snow

I don’t know

If it will

If it can’t.

 

 

For the Wits End weekly photo challenge: White on White