Quietude

There is a quiet beauty in the bareness of branches, branches whose leaves have fallen, drifted off in the river of time, or carried away on breaths of the wind, leaving a quietude behind.

There is a loveliness in the iron bench, strong within its solitude, surrounded by silence, standing alone, nobody resting or seeking respite upon it, facing the river’s steady motion towards an unseen continuum.

There are moments for reflection, moments that one intensely perceives they are a minute part of the whole spectrum of existence, a speck within the global force, a blink in the eternal plan, a flicker in the candle of time.

Shabbat Shalom-if you celebrate! Have a lovely weekend to every one else.

Yom Kippur

Marcel Marceau died on Yom Kippur 10 Tishrei, 5768 (September 22, 2007). He was famous and well-loved for his pantomime act. With each performance, he tried to spread the word of silence through his body language and expressiveness. Silence, he felt, was another form of language, a language that could vividly express what words could not.

He felt silence and the art of pantomime could blend together, creating scenes reflective of humor and of intensity, of good versus evil, of man’s place in the scheme of things.

You can read more about him, in a post of mine from from August 18, 2013, here.
~~~~

The above painting, entitled “Jews Praying in the Synagogue on Yom Kippur, was painted by Maurycy Gottlieb, 1878.

Came Yom Kippur

A Hank Greenberg Poem

Author: Edgar Guest ©. Published: 1934. Appeared In: Detroit Free Press

“Came Yom Kippur — holy fast day world wide over to the Jew,

And Hank Greenberg to his teaching and the old tradition true

Spent the day among his people and he didn’t come to play.

Said Murphy to Mulrooney, ‘We shall lose the game today!

We shall miss him on the infield and shall miss him at the bat

But he’s true to his religion — and I honor him for that!'”

~~~~

For my friends who observe Yom Kippur-G’mar Chatimah Tova.

Cliffs and Sea

The Cliffs

They sing of the grandeur of cliffs inland,
But the cliffs of the ocean are truly grand;
And I long to wander and dream and doubt
Where the cliffs by the ocean run out and out.

To the northward far as the eye can reach
Are sandhill, boulder, and sandy beach;
But southward rises the track for me,
Where the cliffs by the ocean run out to sea.

Friends may be gone in the morning fair,
But the cliffs by the ocean are always there;
Lovers may leave when the wind is chill,
But the cliffs by the ocean are steadfast still.

They watch the sea and they ward the land,
And they warn the ships from the treacherous sand;
And I sadly think in the twilight hour
What I might have been had I known my power.

Where the smoke-cloud blurs and the white sails fill,
They point the ships to keep seaward still;
And I think—Ah, me!—and I think—Ah, me!
Of the wreck I’d saved had I kept to sea.

Oh! the cliffs are old and the cliffs are sad,
And they know me sane, while men deem me mad.
Oh! the cliffs are firm and the cliffs are strong,
And they know me right, while men deem me wrong.

And I sometimes think in the dawning gray,
I am old as they, I am old as they;
And I think, I think that in field and town
My spirit shall live till the cliffs come down
-Henry Lawson

It Shouldn’t Be Necessary

The Jewish Book Carnival for August is up, hosted by Ann D. Koffsy, with many links for you to browse. DO stop by.

I have been lax in blogging, lately. There has been so much happening, worldwide, in my own life, and in the life of a dear friend, that I didn’t feel the motivation to write a post.

Tuesday’s news regarding James Wright Foley, crushed me. It is appalling, unfathomable, and heartbreaking on so many levels. The family statement is a beautiful tribute, yet through all of the anxiety they have been dealing with for several years, how can they overcome this? How?

When I heard the news, I immediately thought of Daniel Pearl, and his family. I pass by the Daniel Pearl Magnet School a couple of times a week, and each time I do, I pray for him and his family. Now, when I drive by, I will include James Wright Foley in my prayers.

It shouldn’t be necessary…

Here is a statement from Ruth Pearl, mother of Daniel Pearl: “Our hearts go out to the family of journalist James Foley. We know the horror they are going through.” Ruth Pearl – Daniel Pearl Foundation

It shouldn’t be necessary…

The world has turned against itself, it seems. Even within America, due to the events in Ferguson, the anger is prevalent and fueled with discord, and lack of harmony. Fighting, looting, bullying, and defiance are not, in any sense, the answer.

I abhor the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. There doesn’t seem to be any end in sight. My people are being held responsible for inflicting harm, yet, no responsibility seems to be called for regarding Palestine’s involvement. Many in the world see some of the events through lenses of cultural preference and/or religious foundations, and not through realistic actions that have been taken.

MH17 with all of its passengers and crew being shot down is a deplorable act, and one that is unimaginable. The families left behind…how do individuals go on from an act of this proportion!?

It shouldn’t be necessary…

So much discord, so many deplorable acts, so much horror is occurring. At times, I stay away from the news, yet, I return, because I want to keep up with current events. It is a lose-lose situation.

I turn towards my photography, towards hiking, towards writing and towards listening to ethnic music. It helps for a short while…

The Gazebo

The gazebo
is a harbor of reflection
of today’s issues
on the days past
the days ahead
on nature’s beauty
roses, petunias lavender
dogwood trees, weeping willows
a place of retreat
to nourish the body
sip a cup of tea
from a floral china cup
bite from a scone
infuse the soul
with quietude and calm
-LM

Shalom…

Fortunate Versus Unfortunate

I found this poem on Rabbi Aaron Bergman’s Site. It struck a chord with me. The analogies of those who are loved, nurtured and cared for, as opposed to those who live from moment to moment without necessary substance, left my heart feeling heavy. The prose speaks volumes regarding the fortunate versus the unfortunate children, babes, innocents, within the globe of humanity.

With everything that is occurring worldwide, I thought it a compelling reminder to remember all the world’s children in your prayers, tonight, and every night.

“We Pray for Children” by Ina Hughes

We pray for children
Who put chocolate fingers everywhere,
Who like to be tickled,
Who stomp in puddles and ruin their new pants,
Who sneak Popsicles before supper,
Who erase holes in math workbooks,
Who can never find their shoes.

And we pray for those
Who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
Who can’t bound down the street in new sneakers,
Who never “counted potatoes,”
Who are born in places we wouldn’t be caught dead in,
Who never go to the circus,
Who live in an X-rated world.

We pray for children
Who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
Who sleep with the cat and bury goldfish,
Who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
Who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
Who slurp their soup.

And we pray for those
Who never get dessert,
Who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
Who can’t find any bread to steal,
Who don’t have any rooms to clean up,
Whose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser,
Whose monsters are real.

We pray for children
Who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
Who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
Who like ghost stories,
Who shove dirty clothes under the bed,
Who get visits from the tooth fairy,
Who don’t like to be kissed in front of the car pool,
Who squirm in church and scream on the phone,
Whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.

And we pray for those
Whose nightmares come in the daytime,
Who will eat anything,
Who have never seen a dentist,
Who are never spoiled by anyone,
Who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
Who live and move, but have no being.

We pray for children
Who want to be carried
And for those who must,
For those we never give up on
And for those who never get a second chance,
For those we smother.
And for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind
enough to offer it.

We pray for children. Amen.

Sunday Scenes: February 2, 2014

Today, in the U.S., it is Groundhog Day! The groundhog saw its shadow, therefore we will have six additional weeks of winter.

For those who want to learn more about this tradition, visit here.

The sea is a feast for the eyes
as one beholds the garden of glory before us.
From boulders of black, tan, grey and brown
to mold and fungus vegetation, to bright wildflowers
the illumination of colors, textures and tones
brings immeasurable delight to the senses.

One can daydream the minutes and hours away
wrapped in a cocoon of nature’s brilliance,
in awe of the wondrous visuals before us.
-REM