Covid Autumn
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
A child at a bus stop asked its mother, “Why do so
many leaves fall in autumn?” A woman in the queue answered for the perplexed
mum, “They cry a saint’s tears for all of us so we can be spared too much
crying, “What’s a saint?” the child wanted to know. “Your ma, for a one,” the
woman chuckled, “… if only for raising you up to ask questions.”
Everyone laughed, just as the bus arrived, but plenty
of food for thought there, yeah?
That was years ago. I was the child, aged about five years, tugging at my mother’s hand in a bus queue. Later, I asked my mother if she thought the woman was rude for butting in. She laughed, a twinkle in each eye, “Well, maybe she shouldn’t have butted in, but she certainly made my day, and you would do well to remember what she said about asking questions.” I promptly took my cue and asked, “Can I have an ice-cream?” Whereupon I learned something else that day; not every question supplies the answer you are hoping for …
Seventy years on, I am still asking questions such as
the one on everybody’s lips at the moment, “Why this coronavirus, and for how
long?” No easy answers to that one nor quick fixes either although I would suggest
those selfish people letting their masks slip and/ or refusing to wear one as
and when required simply because they don’t want to, ask themselves what gives them
the right to put others at risk … ?
COVID AUTUMN
Winter
closing in fast,
Earth
Mother weeping as always
for
Her sleeping beauties,
yet
taking comfort in a reawakening
come
another spring,
while
tears, too, for all Earth’s children,
no
matter who or where,
having
to live with pain, anxiety, fear,
as
never (quite) felt before
Winter,
calling on all nature
to
be sure and make due preparation
for
whatever it takes;
separation,
hibernation, skeletal trees
echoing
hopeful springs,
glorious
summers, evergreen cousins
egging
on any ghosts nesting
where
not so long ago sounds of birthing,
singing,
true joie de vivre
Winter,
a forbidding season,
yet
able to not only summon such ghosts
of
universal significance,
but
bring them together, lend them a finer
magnificence
then any diary
of personal or global consciousness,
even
its horrors redeemed
by
heroes of war and peace destined to prove
the
tragi-wisdom of sacrifice
Falling
leaves, such tears
as
nature and human nature needs must
let
fall in remembrance
and gratitude for natural and personal
histories
at the heart
of
all things bright and beautiful, all creatures
great
and small, long before
natural
and human waste began to haunt a sleepy
global
consciousness
Nothing
changes, everything changes, such is the turn
of
the screw that is a Covid-19 autumn
Labels: autumn, fall, global consciousness, history, human nature, human spirit, identity, life forces, love, mind-body-spirit, personal space, poetry, positive thinking, posthumous consciousness, seasons, society
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