SPECIAL EDITION: A poem of historical hope
Hello Dear Friends of WordPress and beyond.
Like the rest of you, I am disturbed and troubled by the outbreak sweeping the globe as I sit here and type this. It’s a bit overwhelming, almost paralyzing. As the days go by, it feels like things go from bad to worse. There’s an ever present tingling and tension in the air. I go through the world (or rather, my house since I’m under shelter in place orders) with stooped shoulders and an upset stomach.
In times like these, it feels hard to keep writing, reading, making art, taking pictures, and going about my routine. However, the writing muse still crackles in my veins and it will not be ignored. It tells me that as hard as it is, now is the most important time to keep doing those things. Because art and literature are powerful human sun rays in a storm like this. More than that, they can bear witness for a future generation, those who will look into the hearts and minds of people like us, locked in this scary time and unable to see the other side.
Thinking in those terms, I see my pen as the most powerful weapon in a world where I feel helpless. This week, instead of one of my usual posts, I picked up that pen and wrote a little something special that I hope will bring you some encouragement. I hope it reminds you that we, humans, have weathered an awful lot of storms. We have been knocked down, but we get back up. We work together and make things come out right. This too shall pass.
I am thinking of all of you. I wish you safety, health, and emotional well being in these very troubling times. To hopefully help with that, I have included some of my favorite photos of flowers and butterflies in this post, two magical things in nature that remind us times of darkness, in a cocoon or in winter’s cold ground, can be times of transformation. We can come out stronger and more beautiful on the other side. So, while we wait for our wings to come in, I wish you all well.
A Poem of Historical Hope
by M.B. Henry
I find myself speechless as I out reach for my pen
Never thought I’d see something like this, not in a decade or ten
I find I’m scared and anxious, it’s hard to focus or think
People have closed their shops and doors, I miss that human link
There’s no real telling when it ends, a kind of thing like this
I’m not sure when normal resumes, or even what normal is
It’s hard for me to think about, I feel so very alone
No places to go or people to see, just sitting here in my home
But there’s lots of people to talk to still, and they’re not too far away
Just down on my bookshelf, thousands of people await
People who have endured so much, survived all kinds of hell
On every page, with every story, they remind me all will be well
World Wars, famines, floods, revolutions, and pandemics too
Space shuttle crashes, nuclear melt downs, shipwrecks in the deep blue
One thing I learn reading it all is light always shines in the dark
Even when things get really rough, there’s always the human spark
It might take more time than we’d like, months, maybe years
Lots of people will get upset, there will be a lot more tears
Someday though, the curve will flatten, things will turn out right
The clouds and rain will dissipate, the sun will shine so bright
The spirit of many tested peoples runs through all of our veins
It helps us to never give up or quit, no matter what chaos reigns
So when I need some company, I’ll march right to my shelf
I’ll grab a book, a glass of wine, I’ll travel some time else
I’ll also keep picking up my pen and writing in the same old way
Especially in my journal, which will help bear witness someday
To tell the story of the Covid Pandemic and how we made it through
For up and coming generations who will have their struggles too
I’ll stay calm and do my best, I’ll wait for the storm to pass
I’ll help my neighbors, call my friends, and attend my livestream mass
I’ll wash my hands, I’ll stay inside, I’ll try to keep to myself
And when I need a dose of courage, I’ll reach for that old book shelf