Quarantine

What is this second winter’s death?

There’s no more reason to talk.

But springtime pleads its loneliness.

We’ll take another silent walk.

Check the boxes, read a book,

Be lazy, make the beds,

The sabbath day has gone to seed.

We’d rather work instead.

What is this strange, uncharted time?

Where pollution flees the skies,

Where art is made by kids outside,

Where people get exercise?

We finally have time to unwind,

To see the relaxation we sought,

Is leaving us unsatisfied,

Being stuck in the same spot.

Remember The Fall as we seek to blame

The authorities in our concern.

We come from a just and perfect place.

And to a perfect place we’ll return.

We are in an in-between.

This story is short on earth.

Remember this temporary pain,

As we wait for our rebirth.

Now that we have been stripped

Of our jobs, our schedules, our lives,

May we do the dreaded slowing down,

And stop to recognize:

There’s only one thing constant

That’s yearning for our attention.

Do we continue to ignore our God,

Even now without distraction?

Let’s lean into the truth that holds,

As our hearts mourn and creation groans.

And bask in the simple letting go

To the love we know, and the faith He’s shown.

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