In the past few hours, news of two horrific terror attacks in Israel have emerged. In the first, a crazed haredi (ultra-orthodox) man armed with a knife charged the same Gay-pride parade that he had attacked ten years ago- a crime for which he was sentenced to 10 years in prison. Just a few days after his release, he repeated his crime. Six people were gravely wounded.
The second act of terror was perpetrated in the Palestinian village of Douma. Firebombs were thrown into the home of a Palestinian family. An 18 month old baby was murdered in cold blood while words of "revenge" were painted on the side of the home.
How can a city just sit?
Weeping copious tears while white-clad sanitation workers diligently sweep up the rainbow blood of her children?
Four thousand years ago, another man with a knife walked these streets with his wood-bearing son.
He, too raised his fist in passion, but an angel descended to soften the blow and disable the devouring knife.
And just a stone's throw away in another village, screams and horror echo off charred walls.
There are no angels anymore.
And solitary weeping.