Plague Time
Now is the time of Death and Hope
Pandora’s box is open, all the ills are released
And we only have Hope to guide us through.
Now is the time of social isolation,
The Soviets called it Internal Migration,
Quarantined, locked up, throw the key away
Prisoners of us all, in our homes and souls.
Now is the time of loneliness and forced togetherness
Families hemmed in by four walls, social media connecting
To others who are as lonely as we are. Alone, afraid.
TV news tells us doomsday scenarios, we are living a dystopia
Of our own making.
Now is the time of distance, from friends and lovers, family.
We long for the touch of the other, we fear their touch.
A cough makes us wince, strangers are a danger. Friends too.
We are polite, aggressive, we flee each other in the streets.
It has come to this, we are living in a science fiction world.
Now it is Spring time, a time of hope, of sowing of seeds.
Flowers are blossoming, the earth is awakening to a new dawn.
The rebirth is here, but for some it is the tomb and eternal sleep.
Young want to dance and sing, old want to breath one more time.
But there is a cloud blocking the sun. It is the time of the plague
Now is the time of Death and Hope; Pandora’s box is open.
All the ills are released and we only have Hope to guide us through.
©Patrick McDonnell 2020
