This Is Our Story
Finally, there’s wind
The static air can move at last
It could be a carrier
Or a cleansing thing
But with sunshine christening
We’re hopeful it’s the latter
We need good days
And how idle does that sound
Imagining the waiting rooms
The wards, the angled beds
All the suffering from symptoms
It is a ministry of comfort
Nothing more though that is great
For now
And perilous
The problem with the anodyne
Is that it’s ancient hope
And little more
There is no easy cure
And for now there is not an uneasy one
Our prayers and thoughts
Seem not enough
Not to mention less than nothing from
Ones who utter them through angry
Or indifferent mouths
Against instead the real need
Some liquid in a tube
Delivered by a needle, disassembling
The cohorts of the virus
Well, we can think and pray for this
And these
With others or the silence
Of our closets
Asking to bless
All workers who pursue the
Necessary, healing good
There seems little else to say
No other topic pressing
It is a time of plague
Optimism notwithstanding
On all our houses
C L Couch
Photo by Tom Rumble on Unsplash
The light was fading as I was flying the Mavic back from another shoot and the symmetry of these streets caught my eye. Love me some long afternoon shadows.
April 2, 2020 at 7:59 pm
You nailed it with those last lines. Some houses are better able to cope than others though. I’m still waiting with dread to hear that it’s hit the refugee camps on the Syrian border.
April 2, 2020 at 9:40 pm
Thank you. I’ve been wanting to know how it is in the camps. We’re not hearing much about those we’ve camped at our own borders. Intentional?
April 3, 2020 at 7:04 am
Everybody is concentrating on their own little area. The world has shrunk. Different people have different pain thresholds. I see people complaining about holidays being cancelled, family get-togethers, how to occupy their children, how to cope when there’s no vanilla sugar in the supermarkets etc etc. Who cares about real problems?
April 3, 2020 at 9:22 pm
Yes, who does? I think there’s a bitter irony in that we feel closed in and could feel expanded if we cared about the larger world.
April 4, 2020 at 10:23 am
Those last lines ring true. and the ancient hope is what we need, and what most of us are trying to hold on to.
It is a ministry of comfort
Nothing more though that is great
For now
profound lines, brother.
April 22, 2020 at 5:14 pm
Thank you, sister–and for all your reading!
April 28, 2020 at 4:25 am
always a pleasure, brother!
April 13, 2020 at 11:12 pm
I like the way you explained the situation.
April 14, 2020 at 7:42 pm
Thank you for your close reading!
April 21, 2020 at 9:55 pm
Thank you Clouch, I liked your poem, it’s so meaningful. 🙂