The Seder is a Map
The Seder plate is a map of liberation,
a constellation of struggle and sweetness,
and we drink four cups, reclining—
knowing the work is not yet done.
We tell the story as if it were new,
as if
Mitzrayim
weren’t still a shadow,
as if the chains had truly shattered
and not simply shifted hands.
Dayenu
, we sing, and yet—
the streets still wait for marching feet,
the tables still need setting,
the stranger still knocks at the door.
We lean into questions, drink deep of wonder.
Who is free? And who still labors?
Who will rise up, who will open the gates?
Whose joy will light the way forward?
Elijah knocks, and we throw open the door.
He is out in the night with the weary,
breaking the masters’ yoke,
turning stones into bread.
We dip our fingers in the wine,
counting plagues, naming sorrows.
Justice cannot be sweetened,
only built with open hands.
So we set out once more,
walking barefoot through desert nights,
matzah crumbling in our hands,
hearts alight like burning bushes.
— Chaya Feldstein
← Back to all stories