Before We Tell the Story
We gather together, our mothers
and fathers, ourselves, our children,
our children’s children.
We kindle the holiday lights,
sanctify the fruit of the vine,
immerse the spring greens
remembering the tears,
the bitter water is sweetened
with the hope of redemption.
Then we break, break
matzah, dry, brittle,
bread of affliction.
We break open our hearts
to brokenness and pain,
our souls to love and abundant joy.
We break open to all
we will encounter on that
long journey from slavery to freedom.
Now are we ready to tell the story.
In telling the story we learn to be free.
Another amazing poem that touches my heart and soul.
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