There are three matzot in this pile,
One on top of the other on top of the other.
The top matza and
the bottom Matza are,
perhaps,
perhaps,
A Pesach reminder
Of the two loaves of
challah we would eat on Shabbat
(But not tonight!)
Which are themselves
perhaps a reminder
Of the two portions of
manna
The former slaves
received in the desert
From God
Every Friday before
Shabbat.
That's the top and the
bottom
But the middle matza?
Ah
Ah
That's the Afflicted Matza.
The reminder of the unleavened bread
We ate as we fled slavery.
This Afflicted Matza,
We break it in half
To separate ourselves,
First from joy
So we don't forget our pain
So we don't forget the pain of others.
All this pain
Lives in this first half
of the Afflicted Matza
And we will eat this first
half now
So that we do not forget
that we were slaves,
So that we do not enslave
others.
And we are obligated to
share those memories.
But--
With the second half of the Afflicted Matza,
With the second half of the Afflicted Matza,
Called, the Afikomen,
We break away from the
pain
So that we don't forget
the what can follow the sorrow:
The times we enjoyed our
lives
The moments when we
changed things for the better.
And we are obligated to
share those memories, too.
Then, after we have told
our stories
And after we have eaten
our meal
We search for that
happiness.
And we always find it,
And we always find it,
Every year,
The Afikomen,
And everyone has a taste
So we don't forget how
good it is to be alive
And free.