Lament for Israel

I watch too much news. As a journalist early in my life, it's a habit I can't shake, an almost constitutional need to be in the know. This past week, and likely for a few more to come, this has not been healthy. I'm far away from that regional danger, although the anger spreads throughout the world and those of us who are not directly in the latest Israeli conflict are still powerfully affected emotionally, vicariously feeling all the feels, as I'm told the kids say these days.

A writer or poet's role at such a time is to record what we observe so that the reports that will eventually recorded in history have access to a deeper sense of what it was like to live through such a perilous time, beyond the bare facts and official governmental explanations. Accordingly, the words below finally freed themselves today from my initial overwhelm.

Lament for Israel

At times like these

positive affirmations

are as ostrich mutterings

when compounding atrocities

reverberate through the soul

of history's violence

begetting violence

proliferating deadly threats

to the innocent near and far

ratcheting up more hatred

lasting lifetimes

eluding healing

feeling vengeful

with powerlessness

to stop cruelties long enough

for seeds of peace to bear fruit