The Dream
Sharon I once had a dream that disturbed me for years, and then I forgot about it. Until now. The dream concerned my youngest child, my Gadi, who was five at the time. In the dream,
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Sharon I once had a dream that disturbed me for years, and then I forgot about it. Until now. The dream concerned my youngest child, my Gadi, who was five at the time. In the dream,
Last night, I went to the kotel and prayed. I didn’t pray like I normally pray. I imagined I was Shiri Bibas praying for herself and her husband and her children in Hamas captivity. I do
We commemorateCelebratePontificateOn the ironiesFaced in grief and lovethat proliferateHolding space and breathRemembering who we are and the salvationWe await We’ve been here beforeWe know when it’s time toLather, rinse, repeat Mourning creates longingWhile rumors are swarmingThere’s
Sadness overwhelmsA new day, the tale replayedOnce too many times Laid to rest in peaceAs hearts weep across bruised landPain spreads far and wide Rest well young soldiersThank you for all that you gaveWhat a price
Threats are heavyAnxiety is thickAnd the sky is a perfect bright bluethat reminds me uncomfortably ofthat Tuesday morningFear permeates the steady, warm breezeAs thick grey plumes of destructionRing out A country braced for war-A magnitude of
In Israel’s Galilee, the soothing hum of our Neshikha beehives now mingles with the harsher buzz of air force drones and thudding echoes of aerial and artillery cross-border warfare. In the picturesque landscape of Israel’s Galilee,
I haven’t told anyone this because, well, first because I know I’ll sound crazy. But second, because I don’t want anyone to spoil it for me. I went to visit my sister and her family in
the July 4th rat a tat tatfireworks finale soundsno holiday hotdogs hereonly a fusillade of bullets our porch doorcreakingno longer a signof lazy summernow suspicionis all it brings Who will enter? my rational mind knowswe’re in
I could be you could be me.Washing my body privately in the showerfeeling safe and protected/violated andripped apart. I could be you could be me, cooingmy baby to sleep in a safe and protective collective settlement/butchered,
“Are you still going?”Asked by a friend as I pack my bagsFor a trip that’s been promised a year and a dayA trip long discussedAnd oh so desperately needed“Are you still going?”In light of recent current