If only the sun
would infuse me
with some of itself
so I could see
the pace of time
the stretch of light
its soul of dark
our fragile flight
If only the sun
How the skin of you feels when you smile
is the same as how the skin of me feels when I smile.
We are the same you and I, our skin is One.
Something so small as a smile can create a whole universe of love
so let’s smile more and bring humanity together with love for all peoples.
Night sky blue
I see there are no birds
only a stillness
for humanity to sing
but instead they
create a haiku which reads
Lockdown is over
the masses have decided
to unmask the world
because the Earth needs to breathe.
A poem I published in 2017 seems rather apt at this moment.
I’m back to work on Monday after a month off recovering from a small procedure in hospital where I had a stent fitted.
With my time off I’ve not done much writing but have read more and relaxed. With this time I’ve seen the good and the bad of humans during this crisis.
Some of the good I’ve seen is people helping by keeping in touch even if it’s just a simple text and shops with the cashiers being on the front line seeing many hundreds if not thousands each day but still soldiering on.
The bad is the scouring of the shelves and people buying to sell at ridiculously high prices but one which affected me the most was a message on Twitter saying (in a conversation about death rates between young and old) …Old people are old. They’re supposed to die when they get ill… I was shocked and upset by this but I’ve let it pass now.
I try to dwell on the good and not the negatives.
This life thing, this death thing
this wonderful opportunity to breathe
Everything has its day, everything has its night
We grow through time until humanity becomes something more
and as nature’s petals fall it reveals, gives us a glimpse of her secrets.
She will have her way as the slow progress of nature moves ever onwards.
Time is irrelevant for the leaf because it knows one day
it will become a tree, a rose or even a mountain
as we struggle in the mulch of our own awakening.