ANATOMY OF A LOCKDOWN
Pablo A. Tariman
I see myself in deep thought Clearing the kitchen sink After sharing modest meal With my grandson Now getting used To on-line classes.
In those dreary months You learn the art Of coping Of planning meals Of making do With reduced income While turning to Chopin nocturnes Early in the morning.
In those dreary months You learn the art Of talking to plants Re-arranging pots Pruning branches Pouring soil To thinning layers After constant watering.
The months of panic deadlines Are gone You settle and accept What has become of you As slave of the computer.
You turn away From writing that pays And focus on verses That provides nutrients for the soul And less food on the table.
A lot to be thankful for
A healthy body Sturdy knees Mind that still works And pure contentment As you see your grandkids Grow and seemingly adjusted To the hard times Such as they are.
You face the reality Of viruses For what they are.
They come When you least expect them Wreaking havoc on the lives Of friends and colleagues And celebrities All over the world.
More than the threat of hunger Beyond the threat of sudden demise You see extreme kindness Taking shape Where once they were all busy Slaying assorted goals.
As the weeks turn into months You learn to appreciate The beauty of silence Of being alone Of being patient Of looking like A sturdy picture Of perseverance.
That silence is all you need To comprehend Why real people care And to be patient With a government That has seen better days.
A lockdown Divides your being Into useful parts.
I like the part That appreciates quiet streets I like the part That transforms sensuality Into guideposts for spiritual living I like the part That transforms suffering Into bottomless Sources of empathy.
It is another year Of uncertain lockdown
I like to retrace How I coped with it
I am still alive I can still smell flowers I can taste even bland food
The anatomy of lockdown Is breaking the parts Of gloom And turning them Into pieces of hope.
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