2020 Requiem

The year is coming to a close in a few hours for me. This has been the roughest year for billions of people. So many people have lost people they love, as have I. But as the year ends, hope is on the horizon. The coming of a new year brings the promise of change. This morning I sent my voice sailing over the ocean with wishes of peace and love.


Winter came in cold and damp, perfect flu weather I thought – wrong virus

As the season wore on we got news of a mysterious deadly virus spreading – just how deadly we could not know

The virus arrived in our airport, from where we have crossed the ocean several times – it passed through customs without declaration

Spring brought with dozens, hundreds, thousands of cases – the whole world was engulfed in its deadly embrace

On March 25 there were 100 deaths in a single day, a thousand overall and that number sent shivers up my spine – how little did we know how high that would rise

Deaths bloomed liked wildflowers as cities shut down, businesses shuttered, people isolated – good hygiene and a mask became our shields

Summer brought with it terrors unimaginable as the world grew silent, streets empty of life, as the virus swept the globe – the curve flattened for a time, but that did not hold for long – here

With risks all tabulated, stages of reopening were plotted – but some never did listen and still do not

Information fought ignorance and stupidity, and lost – summer’s heat was not match for the fevers

Some relief arrived along the way, but supplies, hospitals, bank accounts, all were stretched to the breaking point – wonderful, beautiful souls clung to blessed hope

The numbers of infected and dead climbed higher like autumn leaves in a whirlwind – each day millions of prayers soared through the long dark nights

We, here in the hot zone, looked on as countries reopened, managed the pandemic – normal life returned for so many, but normal is ever-changing here

And now, another winter’s come – the worse one yet by far

Spring will follow and summer and perhaps fall again before normal, whatever that is, returns

A magic bullet has been found, but there are not enough to go around, so the war rages on, and on, and on – each day I pray for the sick and dead – and keep moving forward

Published by cewheeler

Writer/Artist:12 years in China – univ. lecturer: writing,poetry,culture; editor – magazine/newspaper & actor. 40 years students of the Tao. Traveler. Father. Read my books at: amazon.com/author/wheelerce

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