A Plate of Pandemic

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Creativity in Times of Crisis

Just To Say How We Managed

-after one year in isolation/Feb 2021

 

 

We often rose before the light,

Mornings after a dream-adorned sleep

had calmed the day’s swelter, or the

hushed world became encased in snow.

 

We drank black coffee with grace,

gently coaxing the dark from us.

A warm palmful of sublime comfort,

and the gratitude for another dawning.

 

We sometimes spoke of the day,

and wondered about its plan.

We confronted the news, and

offered our thanks for its distance.

 

We spent the first hours, attending

many matters that we knew

could just as well have waited.

Life without application is no life.

 

In the long afternoons,

we found our pleasures in words

assembled in books, that paid

no mind to solitude or misgivings.

 

We napped in a vessel of light,

two cats composed at our feet,

The sun upon shuttered eyes, still

sensing the dim of passing cloud.

 

As always, the hushed harmonies

of water sliding down and down,

Effortlessly finding a course beyond

impediments large and small.

 

We watched the steam rising up

from stone mugs of Darjeeling tea.

Music came off a dance of fingers,

and the many colors of consciousness.

 

While we were not paying them mind,

calendar pages meandered on their own.

The cuckoo clock we found on a square

in a Swiss storybook one lustrous day,

gathered the hours with a benevolent song.

 

 

Daniel Thomas Moran
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