Some stories begin with sparks and fireworks,

Others with the dull light at dawn

Shadows fleeting between the trees,

Birds chirping quietly in the twigs,

As the world yawning, extending its arms.

 

Softly as butterflies hardly making a mark,

We can slip through life shaping our bodies to match.

While we watch others sculpting their form,

Forceful and coarse like sandpaper on glass,

Leaving their inscriptions for others to surpass.

 

Some journeys come to an end before they even began;

 Others last for eternity and never collapse,

Who’s to say which kind exceeds the other?

A journey to the end of the land,

Or just a mile up the road.

The Desert, Power in disguise

A drop of water like a magic wand

Will wake the giant up from its’ dreamless sleep

To a dazzling blanket of flowers

Emptiness that conceals life

Stop and listen, look around

Shades of colors, quivering air, swirling sand, and

The sky looking with huge star eyes from above.

Where the trail ends, the sky takes over

Where the land drops from under my feet

I have a renewed faith in flying.

I stretch my arms as far as I can

Then I turn slowly, around and around

Deep canyons, round hills, rivers with dry beds

All move with me, faster and faster

Until they blend into one blurry swirl of colors.

Reaching for the sky.

 On the verge of the skies where the west ends,
The sun is setting as a fish of gold.
A ship is swaying in the green waves
It is sailing to the end of time. 

  

The young fisherman took off in his ship,
White is his sail and white is the net.
The young fisherman is out and about
To fish the sun, the fish of gold.

 Lea Goldberg (my free translation)

The disappearing Dead-Sea

Here to starting again.

Almost every-time that I feel stuck and my writing goes nowhere I start a blog. I post random pictures that I like, I post poems and writing that are not done but seem to hols some promise. It makes me feel better, it makes me feel like I am writing.