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.