My father lived at the top
On the right
This is after he died
I came to live on the rocks
Where you can see the lake
I sit on a bench
The evening comes like love
I let myself feel the evening
On my skin
Trees and stones look with me
Quietly
With not even one thought
In them
The moon, an adventurer,
Will come soon
To fly over the Galilee
Sharp rocks and all
I wonder if the roads can melt
The sky – yawn
Me – sing in a few voices
My higher self is resting too
No matter what he does
His language does not understand
The war
The sharp
The past
The will be
Deep in peace
He folds a sweater
intuitiveflow 
Masterful.
Giora this surely flowed without effort…
It reads as natural + stunning as any earthly phenomenon. Wholly itself.
Your senses are so clear.
Bravo.
Bravo.
Bravo.
Encore!!!
I’m smiling – a beautiful gift for Christmas
❤❤️❤❤️❤❤️
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Soul stirring…so very beautiful
Sent from my iPhone
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Thak you all four open hearted friends: Joni, Windhound, Childrenstoriesandart, and Marie.
So good to connect with you on matters of beauty.
And yes, it just came as it is, with two little changes.
Words are not enough.
Thank of course
Hi Giora: I am really appreciating your blog. I like how real and truthful you are about the images. And I loved the reminder to go deeply into the work I love. I am an art therapist too so this was very meaningful for me. I want to thank you for sharing your creative and inner life so honestly and with so much heart. Happy Holidays to you!
Thank you, Christine. Happy Holidays.
Giora, this is so flowing and such a deeply felt depiction, poetically, of how past and present and future fuse and breathe new life. A time of renewal as the holidays approach and a New Year.
I thought I was just having a good time and see what happened..
Yes. Though many more words, it grabs you like the feel of a haiku.