Pesach

Once I stood, toes curled over the edge,

staring down into brown turbulent water

from the sea snapping, hungry.

And we stand now joyful together here

with lit tea lights, candles of hope. Flames

Chase on prison walls, whisper.

Our shackles and cuffs chained brushing

like moths kissing our wrists, ankles. Light,

sparks are inviting us to remember

To dance upon this bitter sand salted

with tears of affliction that is the plague

upon every one laid hard unchanged.

How unprepared shall I be? No bread

Will have time to rise, only the spirit

that terrible beauty sweeping

all aside. Shall a rushing tide open taller 

than these walls? Push us marked

beyond dread of steel of wired coiled

through all our bones? The flesh does pull

under cruel bonds of years. And lighting

this candle remains a promise of passage.