The Confluence

Because deciding between a Good Friday service

and a first night Seder was too hard 

I went out for dinner with friends

Because I recall my grandparent’s Seder 

and the Manischwitz stained Haggadahs, 

pouring a drop of wine for each plague,

where all the children asked the Four Questions,

and my cousin Bobby who died too early

always found the matzah

I missed the celebration and the story

Because I agreed to host a small Seder 

the second night  I would celebrate

Easter Sunday at church

Because I remember a sunrise service

in West Virginia with a mountain background

Because I still hear the voices echoing

around and over mountain peaks

I will celebrate this Sunday

and cook someone’s mother’s brisket

for our small Seder Saturday 

We will read a shortened Haggadah 

and think of ourselves as being there 

It is our story to tell and retell,

to ask what narrow place we need

to move through this year

We will eat Matzah with horseradish

and drink sparkling white grape juice

We will recite the plagues of today

Then on Sunday I will add 

another celebration and remember how

Jesus once celebrated the story

of the Exodus from Egypt