August 5, 2011

Lost sight.

Of myself.

This week.

In busy days.

Of bustle.

And practicalities.

External doing.


With internal quiet.

Thoughts racing.

And no quiet time sat.

Trying to remember.

Where I left.


And recall.

The stillness.



Flowing grateful

July 25, 2011

Today I’m grateful.

For fresh white walls.

And cold vanilla ice cream.

That didn’t melt.

Before I ate it.

For the jellyfish.

And bees.

That swam and flew away.

For a new movie soundtrack.

Of Xavier and Mishka.

And the summer vacation.

Of late mornings.

To sleep.

And no sandwiches.

To make.

Counting to fifty

July 11, 2011

My husband and kids.

Family present and past.

Messy photos and memories.

And childhood smells.

Beach walks and driftwood.

The feeling of home.

Wood-oven baked pizza.

And a candle lit porch.

Cadbury’s chocolate.

Chai tea in winter.

Home-grown herbs.

And bubbling soup.

Pansies and roses.

Sweet peas. Frangipanis.

The white scent of jasmine.

And grapes on the vine.

Sunrise and sunset.

Rain on the rooftop.

A breeze from the ocean.

And sleeping outside.

The minute that dusk.

Turns into dark.

Crunching fresh snow.

And walking barefoot.

Nighttime driving.

With windows open.

Jewish holidays.

And birthday mornings.

Reading great blogs.

Tidy drawers.

An uncluttered house.

And a job well done.

Family meals round the table.

Watching movies.

Unlimited hugs.

And a cat on my lap.

Meditation in silence.

Old reggae music.

A Jack Johnson album.

And a well-loved book.

Lazy vacations.

Outdoor markets.

Summer fruit.

And ice cold drinks.

Cold showers on hot days.

Meeting old friends.

Kids laughing together.

And smiles at work.

A  tended garden.

White beach houses.

Walks in nature.

And waterfalls.

A chilled white wine.

A warming red.

Meandering road trips.

And an empty weekend.

A quiet morning.

A cup of coffee.

Letting go.

And inner calm.

Getting older

July 10, 2011

There’s something amazing.

About older women.

Who walk in their own skin.

With grace.

And acceptance.

Letting life take them.

Where it will.

With elegant focus.


And curving.

The feminine.


And tasting.

The juice.

And flavor.


Each drop.

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.


With the last slice of cheesecake.

Forgotten in the fridge.

Working the weekend

June 5, 2011

Thought today.

About my weekend.


When I started.

Putting dishes.

Before siesta.

And laundry.

Before a walk on the beach.

And how priorities.

Get turned around.

With the good stuff.

Left til last.

Standing in line.

At the end of the chores.

And made a promise.

To myself.

Next weekend.

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.

Walking on the beach

April 30, 2011

Walked on the beach today.

S’like nothing else.

For ironing out.

The wrinkles.

And the kinks.

For submerging.


With sea sounds.

And finding balance.

In sneakers.

On sharp mossy rocks.

For feeling presence.

With footprints.

Disappearing in wet sand.

And filling pockets and hearts.

With driftwood.

And tumbled sea glass.

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.


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.



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.


Of a thousand years.

In a thousand places.