Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

Archive for April, 2020

Behind Your Mask

Written during the pandemic quarantine

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Behind your mask
Is there a smile?
Won’t you sit down
And stay a while?

I wear a mask
For your protection.
Simultaneously,
I escape detection.

But the lady
At the pharmacy
Still recognized me.
Oh joy, another face to see!

We Cannot Wander

Written during the pandemic quarantine.

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We cannot wander, as we were wont,
Nor visit with our brother,
Nor sisters far, embrace in arms,
For fear of causing them much harm.

Some journeys far, we cannot take,
And many meetings must forsake,
Just through a screen we sometimes meet,
When togetherness we seek.

Or walking in our neighborhood,
Six feet apart; we’re told we should.
Some friend of ours, perchance we meet,
With joy afar, we then do greet.

But what a gift we still do have,
Imagination is at hand,
All o’er the earth, and far beyond,
Imagination is our bond.

By rushing streams, we still can wander,
And mountain vales, both near and yonder,
And air so clear, takes breath away;
Still smell a wildflower bouquet.

Those friends and family that we miss,
For them we offer prayer, and kiss.
We think of them and offer prayers,
And hope that well go their affairs.

Let memory of all that’s good,
Bring us some joy, as so it should.
And bring to mind those happy times
That will return in sunnier climes.

Pandemic

When all the darkness fades away
And light begins to dawn,
Will we remember all the pain
Ourselves and others bore?

Will we remember kindnesses
Both given and received?
Will we remember comfort found
From those who saw us grieve?

Will we remember others’ pain,
Or only just our own?
Just time will tell, remember well,
How much through this we’ve grown.

Not Merely Material

We are not merely material,
A blend of blood and bones,
Of skin and sinew.

We need a higher Wisdom,
A Being who knows us all,
Someone Who helps us when we fall.

To go beyond our little selves,
To see a broader vista,
To see what angels see.

Though we can think
And feel and do, and make;
Still, we are creatures —
Limited and finite.

As if there were a central Fire,
And we but points on a ball around it –
We each have a unique perspective.

But the Fire can see us all.

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