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