Chaya's spoken-word riff on the true purpose of all this Passover freedom: a life of Service.
I’m stepping in the direction of home, trying not to rustle any feet besides mine.
Somewhere between heart and home there is that place of coronation, a throne of tin, twine, copper, and oil.
This is a poem about intergenerational memories; ones so powerful they are passed down through the DNA.
Open your mind, and possibilities that once seemed inconceivable emerge. It's a wild, soul-bending adventure.
Chaya's reports from the insides about the latest terror attack in Jerusalem.