Flowing grateful

September 24, 2011

Today I’m grateful.

For a birthday breakfast.

Of food.

And presents.

Spiced with love.

And wrapped in hugs.

Followed.

By a lazy rest.

In a dark cool room.

And a walk on the beach.

As pink light fell.

For a holey stone.

And seaglass.

Washed clean.

With Yoreh.

The first rain.

Arriving.

Like a long forgotten feeling.

 

Rayne

Painting

July 25, 2011

Painting my house.

Undecided.

On the calmness of white.

Or splashes of blue.

Unimportant.

I know.

In the grand design.

But on those days.

Where I wrap my home.

Around me.

Like a hug.

What color hug.

Do I want?

 

Flowing Grateful

June 8, 2011

Today I’m grateful.

For a lazy morning lie-in.

And the red hammock.

Now hanging on my porch.

For the first pink watermelon.

And a blue plate.

Piled with white salty cheese.

For the summer wind.

Bringing coolness.

As the day turned dry and yellow.

And for a black night drive.

Of open windows.

Ending.

With the last slice of cheesecake.

Forgotten in the fridge.

Flowing grateful

May 25, 2011

Today I’m grateful.

For rising with the sun.

And the clear road.

That led to work.

Through moments of quiet.

And creative thought.

For the long weekend.

Of music and laughter.

Sleeping rough.

Under Galilee stars.

For coffee warmed.

By friendship.

And wise conversation.

And for new jewellery.

Of copper and turquoise.

Handmade with the heart.

For my neck.

Picking fruit

May 22, 2011

Today I followed.

The trail of fruit.

That leads to summer.

Winter apples.

Pears and oranges.

Far gone.

Market stalls filled.

With kiwi.

And yellow sugar melon.

Grown in cold valleys.

And deserts.

And by the roadside.

Black cherries.

Red watermelons.

Warm peaches.

And a mango tree.

Not quite ripe.

Not quite ready for summer.

Remembering

May 8, 2011

Today is the day.

We look.

If we can.

In the eyes of parents.

Whose children died before them.

Loss in black and white.

And life in grey.

Impossible to figure.

God or the world.

And the El Maleh Rachamim.

Of 11 o’clock.

And of Yehuda Amichai.

Know that if not for the God-full-of-mercy. There would be mercy in the world, Not just in Him.

Flowing grateful

April 25, 2011

Today I’m grateful.

For warm porridge and brown sugar.

Eaten in the quiet.

Of morning.

And for the green parakeets.

Sitting six in a line.

Outside my window.

For the last day of Pesach.

And fresh hot pita.

Savoured.

As the sun goes down.

For the sparkling wall.

Of hanging crystals.

Swaying in the light.

And for the last long day.

Of vacation.

Before starting work.

Tomorrow.

.

Celebrating Passover

April 20, 2011

The seder.

Allows us to be present.

Around the table.

Of the past.

To take a journey led.

By stories.

And songs.

And tribal memory.

And fueled.

By ritual food.

And blessings.

To close the circle.

Again.

Of a thousand years.

In a thousand places.

Celebrating a birthday

January 8, 2011

Today was the birthday.

Of the community I live in.

With mixed feelings.

As Bilbo. Liking half half as well as I should.

And less than half half as well as they deserve.

But it’s home.

And its paths and orchards wrap round me.

I wish those within it more kindness. And patience.  Less judgment.

For not all those who dwell here wish the other well.

But still all are bound by threads and connections.

 Of this place.

And come together to sing.

Coming home

January 2, 2011

Had soldiers home for the weekend.

Washed their uniforms while they turned into kids.

Hugged them and fed them. 

The country’s weekend ritual.

Until Sunday rolls around.

We’re afraid if we send them.

But more afraid if we don’t.

Wonder what would happen.

If everyone just stayed home..