A morning comes
And I work a bit to remember the name of the day…
It’s Monday (!) and I walk into the kitchen
Saying Good Morning to God on the way.
The vitamins and coffee and dog wait
To begin their nameless day
By the grace of God.
I bless the door that keeps
The virus away
I find frozen chicken down below.
It is like winning a Scratchers.
A little Dr. John Campbell with the coffee
And a turning, now, to a new journal
For iso-phase II Corona musings
Taught to me yesterday
By a divine new friend found in Zoomlnad.
(Thank you, new Melissa.)
Blessed are the throngs who see
Now
That community is the way to our special individuality
We are communicators
Coming together allegorically
Distancing physically
Hallelujah and prayers out to all who
Lost already one whom they love
Where will go that love now?
What will mend those hearts?
Our collective rush to a new form of community.
God love the young men without the young women
And the young woman without the men,
To lose a year of mating—Ah! I recall how one eye was always on the look.
God bless the young.
Perhaps it can bring a bit of the sacredness back to sex when we resume society.
Perhaps a bit less wanton will we be.
And God bless you who are doing your part.
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