This is a river.
Its roots in the distant mountains
and the alkaline springs that fed them were active long ago.
But now, it is unstoppable,
thrusting all obstacles aside – trees, boulders, homes –
as if they were paper confetti.
as if they were paper confetti.
This is a hurricane –
a storm which originated in tiny fetid breezes that,
alone, could not move a feather, but
whose accumulated force
can now crush entire cities.
whose accumulated force
can now crush entire cities.
This is a new pandemic,
whose roots were a single idea in the mind of one fearful soul,
but whose bitterness, once tasted,
is transmitted to millions,
leaving utter desolation in its wake
is transmitted to millions,
leaving utter desolation in its wake
Only after the river reaches the sea
and after the winds exhaust their destructive force,
and after the fevered illness abandons its host . . .
only then,
may we atone our sins
and learn to embrace life, and each other, once again.
