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.