Night Ride - Nothing but darkness in the immeasurable depths between horizons of distant stars

My daughter's 11th birthday today. Wake up late, miss the train, grab the bus to Tel Aviv. Switch to a train to Hadera. Grab a cab to a ranch in the middle of the sand and bushes, puddles and dirt, patient old cab driver gets a well deserved tip. Says the sand's too deep, get off here and I'll be on my way. By foot I continue as he honks and waves farewell. Miss half the party but my daughter doesn't care, daddy is here and that's all that matters. Did you bring my present, of course I did. Cake is great, stray dogs keep stealing slices as they agree. Horses everywhere, peacocks and cats. Paradise I say, but where are the mountains? This place is quaint but it isn't for me. Time to leave, but no trains on Shabbat, grab a cab to Tel Aviv an hour's talk about economic hardship I hear. High rise buildings, illegal African immigrants, transexuals taking selfies while police patrolling with frowns on their faces, welcome to Tel Aviv. I'm wasted, I need to rest and eat before I head on to Jerusalem. No bus to Jerusalem, it's Shabbat. Grab a service taxi, one seat left, off we go. Drunk old man next to me, scared he might throw up on me the whole trip up the hills. Cold, dark, quiet, black hats and side-locks, Jerusalem I'm here. Grab another cab home, 40 shekels he says, whatever let's go. Open my door, two dogs over the moon, time for a walk, out we go. Flares in the sky, check news, terrorist on the loose. Time to head for the hills. Out I go, quiet is the night, not a soul in sight. An ambulance here, a police patrol there, random youngsters racing home probably from partying in Tel Aviv. Hey jackal, don't cross now, I said don't cross now, just wait a minute, soon enough the night will be yours alone. Let me rule this segment for now. Beautiful mountains, beautiful night, beautiful trees don't hide that terrorist it bothers my peace. Pay attention, I am the voice of the night, my heart burns, I sing until the day awakes. My bike is my harp.