In Our Cups of Seder Freedom

Four glasses in, heaps of food and words, 
the feast of mouth-people overflows.

The Reed Sea breathes. The message 
in the bottle passed forward each year —

Ask, talk!  Tell, tell! —

God’s backward order 
that Exodus was a pretext
for us to tell the story – 

makes its own sense.

Words, world making.  The whole 
shifts in parts, the bottom glitters,
we teeter in freedom 
white flowers in a night garden.

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