We cheer on the Davids who fight
a Goliathan war machine, while we
grieve with cousins known and unknown.
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We admire these fighters whose faces
and bodies remind us of our grandpas,
who blessed us by fleeing their homelands.
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We cheer on the fearless Deborahs, who
speak English with our grandmas’ accents,
mix up vile Molotov cocktails to fling.
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Rattled mothers hum lullabies underground
while those overhead defy guns with folk songs,
hoping soldiers will lay down arms.
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At this seder, we pray for peace and our
battling unknown cousins — oppressing and
defending — all under a Pharoah’s rule.
