Faith, Health, and Other Musings
May our minds flourish with creation, and may our hands never deny its expression.
This pandemic
has taken peace
(however much of it we had)
and put in its place
a constant, unrelenting
pain,
— somehow shockingly swift
and sadistically slow —
creating a sort of global wartime,
that makes us yearn for
the things of comfort:
a mother’s embrace,
a lover’s touch,
a child’s messy kiss,
and corona,
this cruel, ironic burden,
has made those
the very weapons of its war.
(where do we find
rest
when the war is in
our homes?)
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Faith, Health, and Other Musings 