Blogs by Bahais

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requiescat in pace – Jack Etheridge 1925-2015

the Book of Bokeh

DadWakeHands

You may recall that around this time last year, I posted Dad, a series of photos I took while visiting my father in the hospital after he had had a heart attack.

I was recently back in Newfoundland, Canada to be with him one last time and was there for his passing and funeral.

I have made death a messenger of joy to thee. Wherefore dost thou grieve? I made the light to shed on thee its splendor. Why dost thou veil thyself therefrom?

Please do not feel sad or sorry either for my father or my family. He was just short of 90 when he passed: a veteran and deeply religious. Bit he was also fun loving with a wicked sense of sly humor, kind, generous, loyal and hard working…and as mentally sharp at the end as all the days of his life. The family deeply appreciated that we were able to have him…

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The Prison Poet is Heard

Stumbling Through the Past

Book cover for Prison Poems Mahvash Sabet, Adapted from the original Persian by Bahiyyih Nakhjavani, Prison Poems, (George Ronald, 2013).

I write if only to stir faint memories of flight
in these wing-bound birds,
to open the cage of the heart for a moment
trapped without words.
For how can one not faint for these women,
beaten so brutally?
How can one not fear for them, suffering
such tyrannical cruelty.

Mahvash Sabet, ‘The Perfume of Poetry’, Prison Poems, p. 32

A woman sits in her prison cell in Iran, poetry flows from her pen. Of all Iran’s prisoners of conscience she and six fellow prisoners are serving the longest sentences of all. A member of a persecuted minority, the charges against them were patently false and their trial transgressed basic standards of legal procedure. The jail door has been slammed shut for a long time.

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Stahm’s Khawmin’!

the Book of Bokeh

IMG_7896

This year, Boston (the largest city in the northeast of the United States) has received ten times the average amount of snow in February that it normally gets. And that  when February is only two thirds over!

In proof of that, I would like to introduce you to storm Neptune, which started in the early afternoon of St. Valentine’s Day and ended late the next day. These pictures were taken at the start, during, after the snow ended (when the wind remained high), during the cleanup and afterwards when calm reigned. The last shot was taken early the third morning on the way to work.

This is the month that anyone in this part of the world could say, “Stahm’s khawmin’!” (“Storm’s coming!” in the New England accent) and they’d be considered a weather genius—at least thus far. Here’s hoping for a change soon!

Before viewing the photographs, I would also like to invite…

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