Tuesday, Feb 27, 2024

Post-Pesach Musing

In hours all that work is gone The counters reappear And put away are all the stuff That comes out once a year The foil of aluminum Are crushed into a ball The plastic covers or the wood Are locked into a stall

And all the dishes put away
The Pesach cupboard packed

And pizza, muffins, Cheerios

With zest they are attacked


And left are only matzah crumbs

Perhaps a box or two

Of matzah meal (if you do bruck)

And some Pesach dish, once new


That you decided, let’s just keep

This dish for the whole year

We’ll get another one, I’m sure
‘Cause this one is so dear


I looked around my dining room

For signs that Pesach was

And I see nothing left to say

This room was once abuzz


The tablecloth

Bereft of wines

Haggados put away

Kids’ voices stilled

Not screaming

“Please, I want to say!”


It’s quiet as they now have gone
Where they do live all year
It’s great at least that for eight days
They brought their children here


And what do we have

In its wake

Much more than memories

That fly away like crumpled leaves

When comes along a breeze


The joy, the praise

The lessons learned

Become part of our essence

If we enjoy the Yom Tov right

And glean from its great lessons


Of course the tape is off the doors

And chometz is resold

But nothing changes if we have

The stories that were told


For every Peasch

That goes by

Forges our emunah

And does ensure

If we believe

Moshiach will come sooner



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