With self proclaimed elegance, the doors to Russia opened before me. I declined. My visit would have but only one purpose, and there are so many who can fulfill the task better then me.
With whispers, a path to Mexico rubbed shoulders with me. I was not enticed. I have insecurities of my own.
Music escaping from headphones invited me to the islands. I passed up. One day a year is enough for me.
Head coverings and dark skin offered the Middle East. I remained indifferent. There is no love lost and we know it.
Dizzied, I embraced the numbers. I preferred future over present
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Brooklyn summer.
The sun still had time before she would set, and then disappear behind the beach front mansions. The stranded crabs dreaded this notion, for the determined seagulls were crash landing for an early dinner.
Engulfed by the breeze, I sat and gazed at the sail boats as took they advantage of the winds. I watched the young rider soar and plummet within the choppy waters.
I have seen such moments before. After all, the coral reef in Eilat did not lie. The beaches of Sydney were tangible and the mountains of Cape Town were reached.
Yet today, I related with the moment. Today I experienced beauty, albeit simple beauty, with a Brooklyn accent.
Engulfed by the breeze, I sat and gazed at the sail boats as took they advantage of the winds. I watched the young rider soar and plummet within the choppy waters.
I have seen such moments before. After all, the coral reef in Eilat did not lie. The beaches of Sydney were tangible and the mountains of Cape Town were reached.
Yet today, I related with the moment. Today I experienced beauty, albeit simple beauty, with a Brooklyn accent.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Fractured.
Yesterday,
In the comfort of company and night;
Smack. Quick Bright Flash. Ringing. Shouts.
Confusion. Pause. Struggle. Release.
Shock. Adrenalin. Running. Calm. Safety. Anger.
Today,
Altered. Aware. Prepared.
In the comfort of company and night;
Smack. Quick Bright Flash. Ringing. Shouts.
Confusion. Pause. Struggle. Release.
Shock. Adrenalin. Running. Calm. Safety. Anger.
Today,
Altered. Aware. Prepared.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
1664
Summer Fact: There is nothing a cold imported beer cannot fix!
City buzz, human streaks, foreign language, good company and the bottle looks me dead square in the eyes.
The sight lifts me from sardine packed streets, to the spacious french alps.
From muffler fumes, to the brisk cool and fresh mountain air.
From fatigue to endless energy.
The memory:
Under my bed
the trinity did lay.
A gift for my old man
in the U.S.A.
The establishment
stole it.
consumed it.
denied it.
City buzz, human streaks, foreign language, good company and the bottle looks me dead square in the eyes.
The sight lifts me from sardine packed streets, to the spacious french alps.
From muffler fumes, to the brisk cool and fresh mountain air.
From fatigue to endless energy.
The memory:
Under my bed
the trinity did lay.
A gift for my old man
in the U.S.A.
The establishment
stole it.
consumed it.
denied it.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Out Of Africa.
These images are dedicated to Dave.
In a previous life he was a Zulu warrior.
Today, he fries eggs, grills chops and cooks Cholent.
In a previous generation he had many wives and many cattle.
Today, he is sober one day out of the week.
And in all, despite what could, what should and what is.
He loves life and “Loves da boys”
Dave, may G-D bless you, your cricket and your alcohol.
These pictures are you! Enough said.
In a previous life he was a Zulu warrior.
Today, he fries eggs, grills chops and cooks Cholent.
In a previous generation he had many wives and many cattle.
Today, he is sober one day out of the week.
And in all, despite what could, what should and what is.
He loves life and “Loves da boys”
Dave, may G-D bless you, your cricket and your alcohol.
These pictures are you! Enough said.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Friday, July 11, 2008
RARA report #2
The front yard was littered with toys, dolls and balls. The inside of the house looked as if a tsunami had swept through.
But all made sense when Yael told us that she is the mother of six adopted children, two dogs and two cats. She spoke to us about the hardships of bringing up children who were not biologically her own. Yet, with the deep affection she displayed we would have never guessed that they were not her own.
Besides for being a mother to six children, Yale plays an active role in a small Jewish group. The few Jews that live in Mittagong get together for monthly Shabbos dinners and Yom Tov celebrations.
While Yael is happy with her life in Mittagong, she still expressed how much she missed living in Sydney; being surrounded by a more Jewish atmosphere.
While we held and played with the children, we explained Yael the concept of Hashgocha Protis; that every entity and action in this world is guided to its ultimate purpose by g-ds wisdom and choice. There must be a reason why she no longer lives in Sydney and must make the most of her work with the jewsih community in Mittagong and with her children.
On our way out Yael could not stop thanking us for the much needed boost, and of course, for taking the kids out of her hands for a few hours.
But all made sense when Yael told us that she is the mother of six adopted children, two dogs and two cats. She spoke to us about the hardships of bringing up children who were not biologically her own. Yet, with the deep affection she displayed we would have never guessed that they were not her own.
Besides for being a mother to six children, Yale plays an active role in a small Jewish group. The few Jews that live in Mittagong get together for monthly Shabbos dinners and Yom Tov celebrations.
While Yael is happy with her life in Mittagong, she still expressed how much she missed living in Sydney; being surrounded by a more Jewish atmosphere.
While we held and played with the children, we explained Yael the concept of Hashgocha Protis; that every entity and action in this world is guided to its ultimate purpose by g-ds wisdom and choice. There must be a reason why she no longer lives in Sydney and must make the most of her work with the jewsih community in Mittagong and with her children.
On our way out Yael could not stop thanking us for the much needed boost, and of course, for taking the kids out of her hands for a few hours.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Conflict
Comfortably drifting back into the past, he tells me his stories and a large smile brightens his face.
He reminisces emotionally about what was once power and influence, royalty and awe.
A time when miracles and inspiration were frequent and revealed.
When blessings and advice gushed without restraint.
Moments when the tears shook the world and caused thousands to cry along.
When the songs elevated man to a different plane, carrying him above the mundane.
An era of teachings and insights which clarified all queries.
Of talks and proclamations, demands and promises.
A generation that stood by the threshold anxiously awaiting the cross over.
That understood; too much is not enough.
I interject.
“What about today”?
“Does the study, the dancing, the blind faith, do they all not impress you”?
“The cynical laughs. The depressed whispers. The hateful commentary, is it there where you place your hopes”?
“True, ambiance is lacking and fanaticism is a turn off.
But I have found my spot and at times, when I search deep enough, the message emanates clearly. Even friends tell me they too get caught in the fervor.”
He tightens his lips and shakes his head. I am not privileged to a reply.
But within his disapproval he is not too disappointed. He knows how quickly I can change my mind.
He reminisces emotionally about what was once power and influence, royalty and awe.
A time when miracles and inspiration were frequent and revealed.
When blessings and advice gushed without restraint.
Moments when the tears shook the world and caused thousands to cry along.
When the songs elevated man to a different plane, carrying him above the mundane.
An era of teachings and insights which clarified all queries.
Of talks and proclamations, demands and promises.
A generation that stood by the threshold anxiously awaiting the cross over.
That understood; too much is not enough.
I interject.
“What about today”?
“Does the study, the dancing, the blind faith, do they all not impress you”?
“The cynical laughs. The depressed whispers. The hateful commentary, is it there where you place your hopes”?
“True, ambiance is lacking and fanaticism is a turn off.
But I have found my spot and at times, when I search deep enough, the message emanates clearly. Even friends tell me they too get caught in the fervor.”
He tightens his lips and shakes his head. I am not privileged to a reply.
But within his disapproval he is not too disappointed. He knows how quickly I can change my mind.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)