Author: CM

In my temporary isolation
I find myself thinking, wondering,
the kind of thoughts
a child might have
about the state of things
and about nature

If I sniff my indoor plants and flowers
will they hold on to the virus?
Does the grass breathe?
If someone coughs or sneezes
nearby will it be affected?
What about the newly budding
leaves on the trees?

We’re given guidelines about
paper, cardboard, plastics, cotton
but nothing about the more organic things
Lying here I muse about this possible
“Worst case scenario” – what if:

the grasses, trees, rivers, seas,
the very earth itself were to receive,
harbour and hold this infection
would there then be an end
that is not inevitably final?

CM 2020

A Kind of Pass Over

If I could only
always be
calm and stately
like a tree
standing strong
under the skies

so little birds
could nest in me;
and on the ground
against my trunk
those I love
would rest on me.

Here instead
I’m only me
a creature feeling
anxiety
about a storm
coming to be.

But if I was
like that strong tree
I’d simply stand
firm but free
and let the storm
pass over me

I see the tree
it stands unmoved
as if to prove
this thing to me:
if it comes
let it be

the storm will pass
the earth will calm;
and whether or no
It leaves some harm
in the afterglow
there will be peace

and as for me
in what is left
I’ll be at ease

Not since the last war
has the world faced such devastation
and I wonder, did we become
soft in our expectations
living in comfort
mostly, though not all of us
– But those others – we didn’t
have to look or see.

Now our slice of life
crumbles like stale cake
and the stuff we relentlessly
threw away has become
precious. And we feel
the hardship of our fears
as we try out social distancing
and self isolating solitude

The killer steals around unseen,
the murder weapon is in
our own hands. It has come to this
we must lock ourselves in
to stop spreading a disease
we don’t even know we have.
to protect ourselves and
all the people out there,
without discrimination.

The distant past echoes, with cries of
Bring out your dead!
And the numbers rise
alarmingly, daily.
The streets are becoming
a kind of quiet wasteland
that starts to press against
our locked doors

Yet, out of the gloom
the heroes are emerging.
Health workers, Volunteers,
Compassionate shopkeepers
of the old fashioned kind
Neighbours checking in,
online cheer leaders
and more.

In a world become greedy
for more of everything
is this our call to waken up ,
to see why the roses no
longer smell so sweet?
All is changed. Now we wait
for another kind of change
not knowing in what form
it will come. But always,
yes, always, we must hope
,