Every Morning I Scream

Every morning I scream.

Every morning I look at the news and I scream.

I scream for humanity.

I scream for life.

I scream for love.

I scream for Istanbul and Jakarta and Burkina Faso.

I scream for Tikrit and Kabul and Homs.

I scream for Hebron and Jerusalem.

I scream for Jenin and Duma.

I scream and scream and scream and scream.

I scream until I feel the darkness closing in on me.

I scream as the darkness begins to pull me.

I scream as I fall, deeper and deeper.

I scream as the last stream of light twinkles through the darkness.

That last stream of light. I see it, clear and strong.

I see a video of my nephew’s hockey game and another stream of light

comes through.

I see a child on the bus turn around and stick out his tongue at me and

another stream comes through.

I see my friend collecting baby carriers for people in need half way

around the world.

I see a dog.

I see the real Kraft Mac and Cheese in the Tiv Tam and the light begins

to overtake the darkness.

The light begins to push forward against the darkness and I hear it.

I hear the laugh of a little child and the light pushes harder.

I hear some Bob Marley or Jerry Garcia,

I hear some Yoyo Ma or Yonder Mountain String Band.

I hear some Bob Dylan or Joan Baez and the light starts to take over.

The light moves faster and the darkness starts to falter.

I taste some Tullamore Dew or Jack Daniels and the darkness recedes.

I taste a good steak or some decent pizza.

I taste a nice cream sauce or some even some cheese wiz.

The brightness is overwhelming, only tendrils of darkness stubbornly

clinging to the wall of my soul.

I feel the sunshine on my face and a tendril falls.

I feel the warmth of my blanket and flannel sheets.

I feel my friend’s hug and the darkness withers.

One last lingering strand of darkness remains and so I read.

I read the news of the death of Dafna Meir.

One last lingering strand of light remains, stubbornly clinging to my soul.