Dear Bibi,

When you speak, we listen. We are your captive audience every time you step up to that podium. Your voice pours over us with the fluidity of something sweet and good, the familiarity of your comforting tone makes us nod along with you in almost comatose consent.

You pause, you look out at us, at me, and you touch us as you fill us with hope. We need hope these days. We want to listen. To really hear.

Sincerity echoes in your every golden word, and whatever it may be that you are saying, we believe. We want to believe.

But then your beautiful oration is interrupted by another, and then another news item. 3 beautiful boys will never come home. A 2 month old baby is mowed down by hate. A father is shot point blank in the chest.

And you’re still speaking. And your words are still beautiful, but empty. Fill them, Bibi. Stand behind those beautiful words you speak. Make them solid, make them full. Make them mean something. We want to follow, but that only works if you lead.

So speak, Bibi. Speak!  We’re listening.