reflection – Breathing Inspiration

Shadow Weaver

Only a twenty-minute ferry ride

from Nanaimo, British Columbia,

across the bay to Gabriola Island

– my place of refuge for two months,

2,000 miles away from my former home.

There, amidst the solace of my retreat,

from the challenges of a wayward life,

I sheltered, during the winter,

while my soul had time to rest,

in safety, solitude, and quietude.

—– —– —– —–

Outside the perimeter of Gabriola,

the borders of the world could not infringe

upon my sense of time and place,

far away from the confusion of my past,

in expectation of a new life on the horizon.

And, the tides upon the beach,

watched with the silent eyes

of a New Age refugee,

rolled quietly upon the sands of time,

like my thoughts, amidst the ebb and flow

of my memories, some real, others not –

yet, unknown to me at the time,

that my personal past had been usurped

by a dark web of uncertainty,

spun by the weaver of sheker (falsity),

whose spell had now been broken.

dVerse prompt

Scrutiny

In constant awareness

of the painstaking scrutiny –

the soul’s revelation of itself

revealed each and every day.

—– —– —– —–

In mind, body and spirit,

the tripartite makeup of a human being,

the soul finds its expression,

weaving a meaningful tapestry,

while, G-d willing, conscious

of the intricate pattern being woven,

by the Master Artist Above.

—– —– —–

The emotions appear to color

the moments that pass by in reflection,

while I am pointed in a new direction,

with each inhale, exhale, and sigh.

—– —– —–

Living life in the moment

becomes a balancing act of the faculties

of one’s essential self; and with His help,

flows endlessly like a river into the eternal

nature of His grace.

The Stone

Many places, arrived at by life’s choices,

concretized in time, once a decision’s made.

A multitude of possibilities, cast aside,

in favor of the one, that changes everything.

—– —– —–

A blanket of snow in winter, covers

all growth, that has since decayed.

Spring brings renewal to the heart and mind;

consolation to the cobwebs of the past.

Summer bears the burden of responsibility,

when all is brought to the light of truth.

In preparation for the autumn leaves,

that will fall gently to the ground.

—– —– —–

These natural cycles are determined

by more factors than our own choices.

I was once given a polished stone,

a constant reminder of silence.

Seek to Be

“**The Blue Yellow Tree” by Vika Muse** @get.muse In the artist’s own words:
“Escaping into the fantasy world helps to overcome the feeling of permanent anxiety caused by the war.”

Sending branches into the sky,

and roots down into the earth;

we seek to be lifted on high,

for all that we are worth.

In this world there is always a cost,

when the soul aspires to pursue

what freedom may bring, despite what is lost;

the body grieves, yet hope will ensue.

Dreams are the essence of ascent,

while our roots tether us to the ground;

inspiration keeps the goal in sight,

where our strength can be found.

We are nourished by our heritage,

our values, beliefs, and prayers,

even without the proper leverage

to move the mountains in our way.

Our trust in G-d Above will not diminish,

even in the midst of the flaming arrows of the enemy;

hope in an unseen future of peace is our wish,

even when lives are uprooted, dreams remain.

dverse prompt

Beyond Oblivion

At the sound of the shofar,

we will respond to the call,

“Prepare the way for the King.”

The masquerade will be over,

when darkness will no longer fall

upon the face of the earth.

At the beginning of dawn,

when the first light will appear

on the new horizon,

we will be given vision and insight,

to see beyond the mirror of self,

into the eyes of the divine.

dverse prompt

Past Memories, Current Events

My heart is overflowing,

teeming with complex emotions,

and my pen, figuratively speaking,

is writing (typing out) words again,

in response to the internal reservoir,

of all that remains to be said.

My muse? Ineffable, for He Knows all,

and is above and beyond all muses.

So, redeemed, is each word that I reckon,

as not my own, rather, from deep within,

a pool of reflection, tinged with a conscience,

and a consciousness, stemming

from the part of mankind’s soul,

that is connected to the Divine.

Additionally, I do not even know

how I can factor into the equation,

that Bolekhiv, my ancestral hometown,

is fifty-eight miles south of Lviv,

where several dozen of my relatives

were buried in mass graves,

during the Shoah.