A NEW EXODUS
Here in Mexico
there was a full moon
over the restaurant
where we read Haggadah,
retelling the Passover story
of our escape from Egypt.
We ate karpas and bitter herbs,
consumed matzos and drank wine
and had a dinner of roast beef.
But as I walked home,
the full moon chastised me:
“Why do you exile yourself to Mexico
once called New Spain
when you should be in Jerusalem?”
I responded, “It is different now
in the twenty-first century.”
But the moon was not assuaged.
“Do you not understand?
The Lord God parted the waters
for you three thousand years ago,
prevented the Egyptians
from pursuing you into the desert
and gave you quail and white seeds
as small as beads of frost
which you made into cakes
that tasted like wafers
made with oil and honey.”
I had no response.
I have exiled myself
to a country from which
my forefathers were also forced
to flee north five hundred years ago
by order of the Spanish King and Queen
Ferdinand and Isabella
to insure Catholic orthodoxy.
The moon said that
the message to flee
is rooted in my bones
it flows with every pump of blood
from my heart.
“It pounds in your brain and
is your ancient Jewish memory.
You shall never find peace
in any foreign nation.
Return to the land of your ancestors,
to the homeland of God.”