Sonnet for Seder during Lockdown
Nothing is new under the sun, not even confinement.
The sun is not new, narrow straits not new,
the liberation story rolls like time in search
of an ending. With Passover we should be done
but we keep narrating, like old people forgetting
we’ve already told it five thousand times.
The more freedom, the more we struggle
to know what it means. The truth of Exodus
is on trial, in crisis. Salt waters crest
to our chins. Awestruck, we know nothing
can be said though we testify and babble
in quivering attempt. We want to want more keenly.
On high, the Lover is never quite satisfied;
He sees our desire raw, though not raw enough.