Wednesday, September 17, 2014

park ways

Somehow it make me think of my mother and father fat away in Puddleby, with their regular habits, the evening practise on the flute and the rest - doing the same thing every day. I felt sorry of sorry for them in a way, because they must the fun of this traveling life, where we were doing something new ask the time- even sleeping differently. But I suppose if they had been invited to go to bed on a pavement in front of a shop they wouldn't have cared for the idea at all. It is funny how some people are.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

I have wrapped my laughter like a birthday gift

I rain
Because your meadows call
for God

I weave light into words so that
when you mind holds them

Your eyes will relinquish their sadness,
turn bright, a little brighter, giving to us
the way a candle does
To the dark

I have wrapped my laughter like a birthday gift
and left it beside your bed

I have planted the wisdom in my heart
next to every signpost in the sky

A wealthy man
Often become eccentric,

A divine crazed soul
Is transformed into infinte generosity

Tying gold sacks of gratuity
to the dangling feet of moons, planets, ecstatic
midair dervishes, and singing birds

I speak
Because every cell in your body
Is reaching out
for God.

I will ask simply. I will let go. yes's and no's.

Saturday, May 3, 2014

Monday, April 28, 2014


there are solutions for everything
sometimes they just appear
and sometimes you have to search for them
searching takes energy...and u just have to make sure not to psh yourself

mm, thank you hashem
thank you hashem
נפשי לה' משומרים לבוקר

Monday, December 23, 2013

quiet waters

thank you

five times in every hour
five times in every hour

dear One

thank you
thank you
thank you thank you thank You

think only lovely thoughts to youtself


quiet waters

~דרום כנרת

Thursday, June 20, 2013

בית מדרשנו

עברתי ליד בית המדרש שבו נתקלתי בתחילת לידתי
ואמרתי אל לבי, כאן נשמתי
ולא למדתי
ולפעמים גם נשמתי
וזה היה אדיר כמה חיים הצליחו להינכס
באי נשימה

תודה. פשוט


Monday, May 13, 2013

let g

Here soar
Not with wings

But with your moving hands and feet
And sweating brows - 

Standing by your Beloved's side
Reaching out to comfort this world

With your cup of solace
Drawn from your vast reservoir of truth. 

thank you. hineni


you must be a miracle

talking to my son before sleep.

“Which is bigger,” he asks me, “the ocean or sky,”
and I want to tell him the heart, which even today
has been practicing vastness, is learning to say yes

in new languages, learning to stretch beyond
the center, beyond the lips, learning to be more moon
and less woman, to reflect light without owning it,

learning to lose whatever it has used before as a measure.
This is the way I want to love: in an idiom stronger
than tongues, I want to love in the way that tides pull

and release, like the moon which holds without touch,
I want to invite the sky to create a bigger space in me
a place spacious enough to hold all the wings

of the passing moment. I want to be buoyant enough
to carry all of love’s weight. “The sky,” I say.
“The sky is bigger, but the ocean is also wide.”

He is satisfied by my words, closes his eyes.
In my chest, a star falls. In my belly
strong tug of tides.

~Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

hello you.

hello. you. beautiful you.

I caught the happy virus last night
When I was out singing beneath the stars.
It is remarkably contagious -
So kiss me.

For I have learned that every heart will get
What it prays for

love you, beautiful you

It would be a miracle if everyone had that perfect balance of loving like tides pull, and releasing like a moon holds without touching. you must be a miracle. p.

כי שמה אלוהים

בתוך הערפל קשב עמוק ושקט מתוך הערפל

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

נהר פלא

O how

many blessings can


Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Rav Menachem

מרבי נחמן...

נצחתי ואנצח
גמרתי ואגמור
אני נהר המטהר מכל הכתמים
אני איש פלא
ונשמתי פלא גדול חידוש כמוני לא היה לעולם

יהי זכרו, אורו, תורתו, צעקתו, מחיית כפיו..לברכה
ולעוד ועוד אור
חי חי חי
ש לום ש לום ש לום

Monday, March 4, 2013

אמן ואמן ואמן

זה נוח לשכוח
לאור יום את השיגעון
של הלילה
זה בא כמו מובן מאליו
כמו האור הכובש את החושך
כמו המילים הכובשות את הדף החלק
כולן אותו דבר:
כמה שלא תהיינה פרועות וקרועות
בבוקר הן כמובן חייבות
להתלבש כדי להיות ידועות בציבור
להיות מובנות לאחרים
או לפחות
רק בתוך
השיגעון של הלילה צפון
שאינו ניתן לחלוקה
כולו שלך
זה הפיתוי הקדמון
להיות כאלוקים
זה הסיכוי האחרון לדבר איתו.

מאת הרב מנחם יהושוע חי שלום

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

לא היום

and some days are all sunshine and 
those days are true 
too. and it all exists in all the moments.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013


mm...I'm a little lost in the world, re, gd

gd's a little lost in the world, re, us...

so it's ok
you know
we'll all find each other


bless you, joshie

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

על המשמר

"יום עצמעות הוא יום זכרון גדול. אבל הוא גם חג הגדול של העתיד. העבר הוא עדיין קצר, קצר מאוד. רק בן שנה אחת. ואולם העתיד העצום ללא-תיכלה. והאחריות עליו מוטלת על דורינו."
04 במאי, 1949

לא לומר את הכל
גם העץ אומר רק גזע ועלים
ומשאיר שרשים באפלה
לא לעבור כל הגבולות
גם אלהים מספר רק שמש
ירח וכוכבים
ומשאיר יקומים
מעבר למכאובי הדעת
לא לפרש את האדם עד תם

שלמה טנאי


...well, then he wanted at least to savor his loneliness and sadness and feel really miserable. 
- - - - - - 
He understood that this had to be, that he must relinquish his dearest and best and purest possession, and see it die.

tail brushes

It's very simple. Dogs and cats and other talented animals have tails; their tails, with their thousands of flourishes, provide them with a wonderfully complete language of arabesques, not only for what they think and feel and suffer but for every mood and vibration of their being, for every infinitesimal variation in their feeling tone. We have no tails, and since the more lively among us need some such form of expression, we make ourselves paintbrushes and pianos and violins...

Herman Hesse, Rosshalde


And sometimes there are birds that have come a long long way from strange islands; they are very tired, they sit down on the deck and they're very much surprised to see so many strange people riding around on the ocean. They would like to understand us too, adn ask us where we come from and what our names are, but they can't so we just look into each other's eyes and nod our heads, and when the bird has had a good rest, he shakes himself and flies off across the ocean.

Herman Hesse, Rosshalde


Once he muttered absently, "One might paint all that."
And when old people get older and older, they die in the end. I'd rather stay the way I am, and sometimes I'd like to be able to fly, and fly around the trees way up high, and in between the clouds. then I'd laugh at everybody.

~ ~ ~
I'd like to do entirely different things. I'd like to understand what the robins say to each other. And I'd like to see how the trees manage to drink water with their roots and get to be so big. I don't think anybody really knows that. The teacher knows a lot, but only boring things.

Herman Hesse, Rosshalde

Monday, February 4, 2013

secret life bees, the of

Some people have a sixth sense, and some are duds at it. I believe I must have it, because the moment I stepped into the house I felt a trembling along my skin, a traveling current that moved up my spine, down my arms, pulsing out from my fingertips. I was practically radiating. The body knows things a long time before the mind catches up to them. I was wondering what my body knew that I didn't.
- - -
It was the in-between time, before day leaves and night comes, a time I've never been partial to because of the sadness that lingers in the space between going and coming.
- -
I am?
Yes, you are, because as long as people have been on this earth, the moon has been a mystery to us. Think about it. She is strong enough to pull the oceans, and when she dies away, she always comes back again. My mama used to tell me Our Lady lived on the moon and that I should dance when her face was bright and hibernate when it was dark.
There's a fullness of time for things, Lily. You have to know when to prod and when to be quiet, when to let things take their course.
It was like I was wearing a pair of gloves with magic properties. Like I could preserve whatever I touched.
When you're unsure of yourself, she said, when you start pulling back into doubt and small living, she's the one inside saying - get up from there and live like the glorious girl you are, - she's the power inside you, you understand?
- -
She's a year younger than me. I always picture her like is in the photograph in his office, holding hish hand, jumping a wave. I keep my mother's things on a special shelf in my room, and I let Becca look at them but not touch. One day I will let her pick them up, since it seems that's what a girlfriend would do. the feeling that they are holy objects is already starting to wear off. Before long I'll be handing Becca my mother's brush, saying - here, you wanna brush your hair with this -- you wanna wear this whale pin?

Thursday, January 17, 2013


When you can endure. by Hafiz

The words stop
And you can endure the silence

That reveals  your heart's 

Of emptiness
Or that great wrenching-sweet longing,

That is the time to try and listen
To what the Beloved's

Most want


love, and deep appreciation
of these
moments, of 

Wednesday, January 16, 2013


by Marc Chagall

Long, long ago the marble slab on the grave of my little sister, Rachel, disappeared. She wasted away as the result of eating charcoal. At last, pale and thin, she breathed her last sigh. Her eyes filled with the blue of heaven, with dark silver. Her pupils became fixed. Flies hovered around her nostrils. No one drove them away.
I got up from the chair, drove them away, and sat down again. I got up again and I sat down again.
My eyes were scarcely wet when I saw the candles lighted at the head of her bed. An old man stood by her side guarding her all night long.
And to think that, in few hours, that little body will be lowered into the earth and men's feet will trample on it!
No one gives a thought to dinner. My sisters have hidden behind the curtains at the door, they weep, press their ten fingers to their mouths and dry their tears with their hear and their blouses.


the Na language has no word for jealousy

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

the painting

findings and forgotten heartbreaks amid sun drenched pages of art at the national library. blessed

If only my sun had shone at night.
I sleep - steeped in colours,
In a bed of paintings,
Your foot in my mouth
Presses me, tortures me.

I wake up in pain
Of a new day, with hope
Not yet painted,
Not yet daubed with paint.

I run up
To my dry brushes,
And I'm crucified like Jesus,
With nails pounded in the easel.

Am I finished?
Is my picture done?
Everything shiens, flows, runs.

Stop, one more daub,
Over there - black paint,
Here - red, blue, spread out,
Calmed me.

Can you hear me - my dead bed,
My dry grass,
My departed love,
My new come love,
Listen to me.

I move over your soul,
Over your belly -
I drink the calm of your years.

I swallowed your moon
The dream of your innocence,
To become your angel,
To watch you as before.

Marc Chagall

Monday, January 7, 2013

קולמוס הנפש

how can i explain to you what was going on?
insanity, basically.
total. utter. insanity.
ok. this old Rebbe like man. spoke. he sat down at the piano.
and older roly poly man stood by his stand-up base
an israeli with longish hair split down the middle in a dark button down shirt sat down in front of his cello
a lanky israeli with short curly absentminded hair sat with a viola in his lap
a more seriousish israeli man sat in front of a mic
they spoke and cried and sang and screamed and fought and danced
in contrast and in unison and together and apart and in harmony and in dissonance


Sunday, December 30, 2012

silent winter

to the beat of a lover's heart

breathingand q u i e t l y getting to know the beat

being soul
holding life

it laughs so deeply, cries! screams wet
with warmth
this silent winter

hey :')

you, I

can hear me in this quiet,

I'm learning the beat of this lover's heart
to breathe the beat of this lover's heart

Sunday, April 29, 2012


holding. flipping. flying. pics.

wet with love
spin spin spin spin spin spin spin spin spin spin
take off!
f - l - y


hah ah hah ah hah
re-birthing birthing

hah ah hah ah ah

turn churn
cha cha hah ah hah ah ah hah hah hah cha
go go
make voice

let be



take off

with me

with eyes open