“This is the bread of affliction that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Anyone who is famished should come and eat, anyone who needs should come and partake of the Pesakh sacrifice.”
and you, too, little bird –
what inside of you has been dormant, distressed, disturbed
forgotten
shunned
tonight we lay out our crisp linens, bring wine to our lips for
the guest of honor – that part within you that is most feral,
most hungry for connection and community and continuity
the part of you that will always be afraid of the dark and the locusts, of loud voices, of the crack of leather
the part of you that perpetually wanders mitzrayim, too afraid to leave
those cells within you that have been banished – those cruel voices which you have internalized who have told you
that there is no food on heaven and earth which can feed every part of you
that you are destined to be hungry, lost, afraid, unworthy, broken left in egypt
our story tonight is about a people who must remind themselves that
they are worthy to live in expansiveness, to feed themselves
and one another after eons of abuse and you must do this, too
so call yourself home,
bring this bread to your lips,
and know that when you leave egypt, as you do every morning,
every part of you must leave the narrow straits to make the journey to wholeness so, come and sit, and eat – anoint yourself with crumbs, let your wise, wise body transform these cells to energy
we may have long days ahead
