
The big wind came
And swept away
The little house,
The trees
And the ripples in the water
And so it worked
Till there was nothing left, but
The little house,
The trees
And the ripples in the water.
Healing and growth through intuitive art

The big wind came
And swept away
The little house,
The trees
And the ripples in the water
And so it worked
Till there was nothing left, but
The little house,
The trees
And the ripples in the water.

Boo!!!
I frightened you
Now
The trembling waves
Are sinking
In the white
And what about
The texture
Of the white, you ask?
It is the source
Of stories
Wait for them
The light
Will stream
Unblinking
Can you take it
With your heart?
And you?

The ancient prince
Made a quick movement
With his hand
But the sword
Wasn't in it
Any more
The queen ran up to him
To shout:
You only have to slightly tremble
For the trick
To work
But he stopped her
With his empty hands
No need, he said,
No need to do this
As
There is
No person here.

Is it a mountain
Or the roof of a barn?
Is this a cloud
Or a smoking chimney?
And this,
Is this a man
With a bird in his hand?
What does he think about?
Do his thoughts
Dive in the sky?
And the drop of green
That fell on the face of the paper,
Why did it fall?
Can this drop be another world
With other people and birds?
Why don't they come closer
To shake hands with us
To have tea
And talk about our lives?
And can the children
Go out and play together
In the backyards
Of the universe?

There was a thought
And very soon emotions gathered
In no time
The wind will chase them all away
But we will still be blinded
By the light they had.

I am passing near the jungles
Leaving dust behind
The big eye is looking
The men and women of all times
Grow out of the timeless bulb
Shining yellow light
I am traveling to another place
I do not know it yet
But this one here, I also do not know
All I know is: It is me
In all the different colors
Appearing many, being one.
I have been interviewed twice for an online magazine, called: Vega Magic Magazine. It is a magazine about inspiring life. They also call it: Digital Magazine for Creative Minds. It is created in Spain and translated to other languages. The first interview was in a video form, the second in a written form. They sent me questions and I wrote my answers. For the video one you can just go to YouTube and search for Giora Carmi. You will find it easily (with other interviews). For the written one you have to go to the magazine: https://www.vegamagicmagazine.com and look inside of it for the interview.

Weeds grow haphazardly in the village
And the village travels like a boat
On the face of history
To reach its destination
Aren’t the weeds distracting to the travel?
And what’s the village’s goal, if not
To travel while the weeds distract?
And why is the goal so far away
Along the waves of words,
And not right here, right now?

The lines, Connected,
Do they help to move
Or do they hinder?
The dots, white and yellow,
Over brown, grey and ocher,
Are they smooth
Or are they rough like
Stones or broken bones?
The beauty, is it real,
Or is it a dream that we have,
As this person runs through the fields
With the last sun of the day?

Can joy live in darkness
Where it is dense
With blinding light,
Where clumps of small explosions
Turn around
With menace?
Can I find my true life in chaos?
No
My life is independent
And pain is happening in it.

The old man
Made himself into an old tree
And sat
On an improvised chair
The old woman
Made herself to be
The leafs that shook and fell
And she was stolen by the winds
All the creatures
Of the forest’s floor
Were born
And then had gotten old
The inner eye
Saw what came and what has gone
and let the beauty of the world
Break the inner heart apart.