Crying Day & Night

may come for the night
but joy comes in the morning
may come for the night
but joy comes in the morning
who is this optomistic meshugah?
who wakes up
dogs wake up happy….
cats wake up…perhaps not downright gleeful…but with subtle grins…
I supposed to wake up joyful?
even the 200mg of Zoloft
cuts not always through my ancestral Jewish angst…
I cry for the bullied, the teased, the dogs abandoned, the oil in the sea…
the soldiers, the souls of the trees…
& the Jews…the Jews…Anne Frank & all those unwritten words…the possibilities….
& in the morning…happy?
I suppose not to be dead or out on the streets…I have food…I can eat…
they count as “happy” things…
but then the guy in #4 slams his apartment door
for the 65th time…
& a man supposedly of god
gets a tattoo…
& a fire kills a cat…
& so they say bombs
are being FedEx’d to synagogues…
and so… where is this joy in the morning?!
act “as if” I guess…
& eventually the beauty of the trees
catches my eye…
Mulder brings me a ball to play fetch…
(he’s a CAT for christ’s sake!)
I take that first delicious sip of coffee…
I pray…I read a psalm…I write…I walk….
weeping is a complicated thing…
but joy is simple…
she sneaks in
at first light

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.


About pjh95811

I am a writer and poet living in California. I love cats, dogs, nature, poetry, spirituality and the Pacific Ocean.
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One Response to Crying Day & Night

  1. wow–powerful and last line full of grace! Hope lots of folks read this, Phyllis.

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