Yellow are the copses of Forsythia and Willow

protruding out of a late Spring snow.

Passover is about to end,

we’ll have to buy bread once again, or

finish off the crumbs that haven’t fallen upon the floor.

We’ve had time to reorganize and reconceptualize 

our lives, so we may find our way down the straight path

of God, trying hard to find a safe swath.

Time to minimize, maximize, optimize our roles

following the cleaning of the Hametz within our souls.

Each house, a bubble of a moment just hanging on,

the day will  be that we’ll come together as we, and

we will dance upon new horizons soon to be.

A unique moment in time has been given,

a second to look within,  a minute to reflect,

a moment to regauge our inner compass

that has been wildly spinning round.

Did we need to scatter our seeds

upon all the forests floors?

Just one moment, just one more!

We’re buds reawakening within the storm!

All that’s spiritual has revolved again!

We were slaves, but now we’re free

as we are going through yet another adversity!

A turning of the wheel of fate has spun again

as we huddle inside our homes, waiting

with dread for an angel’s wings.

Remember one last time that we overcame

the locusts and the plagues, then

walked through the walls of water,

came out without a touch of a tide, and

life began, begat again and again

like the buds of the sleeping trees,

awakening, we shall unfold again.