I walk concrete paths, my vision tunneled
the desolate streets
echo with an eerie hush
I am deep in the downward spiral of my thoughts that drift between drowsiness and dread
This noxious nothingness that has invaded my world is peculiar
With masked mouths and beleaguered breath, we have shuttered our windows and become anxiously alone
The minors have become majors
The molehills have become mountains that feel too steep to climb
But I walk
And I walk
And I walk some more
Amid the quiet I am kissed by a tree.
It’s branches gently brush my forehead.
And I pause.
Even dampened by dew I see blossoms seeming to sag in sympathy with human suffering
Formerly barren branches have abandoned their hesitation in favor of hope springing forth.
I lift my eyes to the mountains
Where does my help come from?
I see the maker of the heavens and the earth in the fields and flowers
They flourish in the midst of dis-ease
Nature becomes a singular singer of promise
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