Malakhi

img_0341

A teacher, a rabbi came to this earth

courtesy of a star, a manger and a virgin birth.

Ages before, despite the temple’s destruction

oil of one day stretched out to eight –

– imagine the miracle!

Hope lights our times, shadows flee in their wake

Hanukkah, Christmas in one time combined.

Faiths diverge but converge all the same

in their wishes for peace and love and brotherhood,

if you can cut through the soundbites and posturing, that is.

I am a mongrel, one foot in the Deep Mid Winter of my past

My heart swelling to Baruch Hu as I whisper Kaddish in memory.

Y’hei sh’lama raba min sh’maya

Bitter sweet at this time of disruption

For all that is gone, for all that has broken

For all that divides in words left unspoken.

Amen.

Shalom.

Salaam.

Shalom Aleichem.

As Salaam Aleikum

Oseh shalom bim’romav hu ya’aseh shalom

Let us welcome the Malakhi, in whatever form he – or she – takes.

******

It’s been a while. Longer than I thought. Life, you know?

Last night saw the first night of Hanukkah and Christmas Eve – two miracles for the price of one. It inspired me to take some time during a small oasis of calm to share my thoughts, my feelings, to highlight just a tiny slice of the similarities in the underlying hopes of the three Abrahamix religions, not to mention in some of the words used in greetings and wishes bestowed.

Yes, it’s probably a bit clumsy (I’ve not written for a while) – but it’s all me.

Whatever faith you follow or not, I send my love to you, my brothers and sisters in this messed-up, argumentative worldwide family of ours.

 

Advertisements

Bus – #SoCS Sept. 24/16

img_2389

On a Sunday morning, I’m probably the youngest person on the bus – and believe you me, I’m no teenager! Nor am I in my twenties or thirties… sigh!

But that got me thinking. Just because I am physically the youngest, does that mean I am also the youngest mentally? If I have my health and all my mental faculties about me when I’m a pensioner (or senior, as people of a certain age are known in other countries), I want to see the funny, light side of life. I want to find joy in the most mundane of things, have a cheeky sense of humour and not feel constricted by deadlines, by the Monday to Friday routine, by all those matters that can weigh us down when we’re of (standard) working age.

I have wondered, every now and again, what is going on in the minds of my older fellow travellers. I hope they are enjoying life in the way I aspire to, when I reach their age. They’ve contributed to society, paid their way, put the hours in. I think they deserve to kick back and wear a cheeky grin, don’t you?


 

It’s Saturday (hurrah!) so that means it’s time for the lovely Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, and this week she invites us to write using the word ‘bus’, or a word that includes it.

Please do hope on over to her blog to enjoy what others have written!

The times they are a-changin’ – dVerse Haibun Monday

dsc_0121

Stupid as it sounds, I never imagined my life without Dad. He and I didn’t have the easiest of relationships. As a little girl, I desperately wanted his presence, wanted him to notice me, wanted him there, with me. So, stupid as it sounds, his absence then felt like a presence, even though his actual presence was erratic and intermittent. We didn’t see each other, didn’t contact each other for many years. Oh, I kept track of him for most of that time, via the wonders of the internet. And then, the London bombings happened near to where he worked, and that was my wake-up call. Life is too short. Oh, how prescient was that thought, for what was too short a time after that, he died. I never imagined what that would feel like, how angry, desolate, lost, hurt, devastated I would feel. I have healed, as we all do, but he is there, in my mind, every day. He is once again absent, this time permanently gone, but always with me.

Leaves turn, green to gold

seasons change, nature gives birth –

death to life once more.


 

It’s Haibun Monday over on dVerse and we are asked to write our haibun on the subject of change, including a nature-based haiku to wrap up our piece.

I write not infrequently about my dad – he’s in my thoughts every day. It’s a strange thing, I never imagining him being gone, given that he was absent for so much of my life. Oddly, my mum and step-dad, my supporters, my cheerleaders, my safe harbours who have seen me through good times and bad – well, I do think of what it will be like when they are no longer here (gosh, that sounds morbid, it’s not meant to!). My mum did say to me, not long after my dad died, that her own mum was in her thoughts every day, even though she died when my mum was a little girl. I truly understand that. It’s not a conscious thought, it just is.

Anyway, I’m sure that everyone else who takes part tonight will approach this theme in their own unique way. Please do head on over to dVerse to enjoy the creativity!