“It was the best of times
It was the worst of times”
Words Charles Dickens wrote
To begin
“A Tale of Two Cities”
It is the worst of times
In the multitude of cities
That fill the map of the
United States of America
A pandemic clogs the
Arteries
Of our country’s life
Even the word pandemic
Brings feelings of panic
Disbelief
An avalanche
Sweeping swiftly
In and through
Every corner of our
Existence
To leave some of us
Still standing
Lives of too many
Others
Snuffed out
Oh my children
Never would I have
Imagined
Your world turned so
Completely
Against itself
It is difficult
So difficult
To accept the reality
Of this turmoil
Still—in its midst
I hear the mourning dove
Calling calling
Still—I watch the phoebe bird
Erratically flit here there
Catching bugs on the
Wing
The sun rises after every
Dawn
Casts a muted glow
Against my closed window
Shutters
And every late afternoon
Still—I am aware
Of a slow darkening
Sky
The Natural World
Follows its own path
Oh my children
Listen only to those
Who speak Truth
Follow the Light
Of your own inner
Guidance
And know with certainty
You will remain safe
And
Never led astray
Beautiful.