Choosing Dandelions

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Photo: Hasan Almasi on Unsplash

 

I wake and turn my back on the clock and seek the comfort of the dream that is still floating like a bubble, already fragile, above my head. It pops and disappears and there is nothing but a vague sense of something lost. I wanted to go back into it … and yet the choice, when it was made in some subterranean neurological net within my mind, was that sleep was to escape.

The day to unfold.

Still, and throughout the mundane tasks of morning, small search-parties like tentative roots into hard-packed sand, send shoots into my consciousness to try and capture whiffs of the dream. A hope that perhaps a fleeting dandelion seed of recollection will find purchase and regrow a stalk.

A place of in-between. Perhaps a corner of my mind is still in slumber. Perhaps if I find it, I will come across the dream, robust in puffy bubble-hood, still tethered to my insides, waiting to be seen.

Sometimes writing helps.

I have too much to do.

I will ignore.

Will choose to sit and breathe and let my mind and fingers wander where they may, the sands of time, the depths of grief, the dawns of days, the fluttering delights, the warmth of recognition, the sorrows of injustice. Currents of discovery of what’s already there. A sea of tethered bubbles like a field of hot-air balloons, straining at the anchors to let loose.

I wrote of a blimp just the day before.

Was that the origin or the reaction to the imagery of bobbing thoughts and fullness so tangible it turns air into rising power? Was the blimp the source or the reflection of the fragility of any skin if pulled too tight, of the leaking deflation if seams are untended, the world upended as it spirals out of flight?

I write. I breathe.

I look pointedly away from the pink sticky notes and the open documents holding forms awaiting filling for a speaking engagement and another for an upcoming presentation and a list of emails needing a response.

I make a choice.

To chase a dandelion.

 

 

 

For Linda Hill’s SoCS Challenge: Choices

 

 

Last Course

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

“So nice of them to give us ice-cream!” Sheri grinned. It was her favorite brand, too. On a plane! How fun!

“Even people on death row get a last meal.”

She elbowed him. Her friends said Robert was a party-popper. A fuddy-duddy, spoil sport, malcontent. Sometimes she wondered if they were right. Her husband did have a way of deflating. She felt bad for him. Life must be so gray, to experience life his way.

“Well, I’m going to enjoy mine,” she announced, infusing extra-cheer into her voice. “If it’s my last course, I’ll be halfway up to heaven already.”

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

(Note: Thank you, Rochelle for using my potentially boring 16 hour direct flight photo from JFK to Hong-Kong from the summer before last … While this is not an ad, the ice-cream sure was a comfort … 🙂 )

 

 

Should We Poke?

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Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

Look at that thing

With the wings,

Can it fly

Or can it sing?

Should we poke it?

Better not.

Press the fence

That keeps out tots.

 

 

For the JusJoJan daily prompt

 

 

Blue Belle

Blue Belle NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

She hangs out next to the couch, wrapped around the floor lamp like a hand in a hand. She’s been there a long time. She lived on other floor lamps before this one, till their time had come and she welcomed a new one. She makes friends with them all, says goodbye to those who lost their spark. Perhaps she thinks of them, sometimes.

She hangs out next to the couch, wrapped around the floor lamp like a protective palm over a young hand. She watches little fingers wrestling beads onto threads, listens as small mouths make words out of thoughts, witnesses big hearts in tiny chests writing grand ideas into evolving minds – theirs and mine.

She hangs out next to the blue couch. She hears the unasked questions that stay behind worried parents’ lips. The questions children ask, sometimes for the first time. She understands. She does not prod. She just knows. They look for her, especially after a long break, reassured to find her there, still wrapped around the floor lamp like a comfy hug.

She’s been there long enough to find the right time to catch their eye.

With a quiet smile.

Blue Belle on her perch by the couch. Patience in her heart, twinkle in her eye.

 

 

 

For Linda Hill’s SoCS prompt: Blue (first blue object you see)

 

 

Its Own Reward

Its own reward NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

The sun’s reflection on the water.

Energy in small waves stored.

The light

The breath

The exhalation.

Life’s strumming flow

Its own reward.

 

 

 

For the Lens-Artist Photo Challenge: Less is more

 

The Bouquet

Photo prompt © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

He’d always forget the flowers.

Birthdays. Anniversaries. Valentine’s Day. Births of children.

It’s not that he didn’t love her. She knew he did. He showed it in how he always cleared ice off her wind-shield. In how he took the garbage out and did dishes she’d left in the sink for the morning. In how he put the toilet paper ‘over’ even though he preferred it ‘under.’

But he always forgot the flowers.

The day of the biopsy results he came home with a gilded bouquet.

“These won’t wilt,” he said. “You’ll see them and not forget me.”

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

Itty Bitty Hugely Pretty

small1 AmitaiAsif

Photo: Amitai Asif

 

Tiny shoots of tender growth

Fill meadows’ hearts

With glorious froth.

The pastel blooms

Are itty bitty

But they sure are

Hugely pretty!

 

 

For the Friday Foto Fun Challenge: Little things

 

Pink For A Queen

pink patch NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

There was a small patch

Of pink

In the large sea

Of green.

Flowers with

Heads together

Like bouquets

Fit for a queen.

 

 

For the September Pink Squares Challenge

 

 

Favorites

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Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

Listing favorites can take days,

Shuffled as they are in time and space,

But here are a few that my spirit

Will always embrace:

Beach and surf,

Little toes,

The peal of

Children’s laughter,

A good tale, a new book,

And loved ones

To look after.

 

 

For Cee’s Share Your World: July 23 2018

 

Pack a Treat!

Packing--Osnat HalperinBarlev

Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev

 

Come on Daddy, let’s pack

Some more rocks on your back

This way you will discover

All the treats I uncover

Also bugs and some leaves

Gifts for Mommy to retrieve.

 

For Tuesday’s Photo Challenge: Treat