Quarantine Dreams — a Poem of Truth and Hope

for the hard times

Grey skies would not enter my bedroom window. Looking outward I saw squirrels living their best lives. With purpose, they tore up my seedlings to tuck pecans in nooks and crannies of our garden.

Crow swooped down and grasped one pecan in her beak. Gently holding the nut she flew away. Crows eat pecans? I wondered at the world

things I do not know, things I will not know. My dreams are full of houses and politicians. The houses fascinate me. The politicians I do not wish to see.

When the sun comes back light beams will brighten my room, bathe me in comfort.

Earth said ENOUGH! smashed her fist on the wooden table scattering Her people inward.

The North wind returned this Easter Sunday firm breath steadily blowing through leaves of Spring trees.

We are cold, tired, and alone. Bodies are universes hosts to love and viruses, births and deaths.

We are one organism and we are separate stars born and dying in one long breath. We are seeds of flowers vast and timeless. We are but a blip.

To grow we break. We break to grow again. We tend our brokenness in our homes alone with grey skies, squirrel, and crow.

Later, when we let sunshine in, we will remember and forget we are constellations universes in universes held together by starry threads.