I close my eyes , and I see the future that has blurred , disintegrated , dissipated into miasmic haze of uncertainty.
Are we guaranteed our tomorrows?
Our desire and dreams invalidated in this moment
Distanced from my fellow beings
Sanitising , sterilising, and afraid of touch
My compassion for the sick at odds with my fear.
This imminent sense of doom
This feeling of a slow tightening noose
Illness , and perhaps death knocking at my doorstep.
I pray for those dying in hundred s, in thousands,
Unable to breathe, helpless, helpless
There is a scream stuck in my throat,
Reverberating inside me, crushing me from within
even if it escaped, Even if I was heard, will it be too late?
There are thousands weeping, crying, beseeching, praying
The world at loss to stop a virion , barely alive
Killing thousands, paralysing millions, the world standing still…
The world holding its collective breath… in terror
Afraid, hoping this too shall pass, just hoping.
The walls of isolation, of quarantine, are they closing in?
The broadcaster screams, Italy is dying , Spain is dying,
It is coming, it is inevitable, a force unstoppable.
So , I close my eyes, and shut out the future,
I go back to a day years past.
I am in my grandmother’s kitchen, with her.
It is dusk, it is heavy with sighs of the day gone by
the muezzin calls for prayer, crickets screeching outside
the sky is orange, the night not quite there
the night still, yet full of sound
the mangroves, silhouettes against the sky.
it is warm from the wood burning in the stove,
I watch the embers of the coconut shells
stray ashes on the red floor, a pot simmering
I close my eyes, and hold on to this memory,
Of so many years past, of so long ago.
It soothes my apprehensions, comforts me
In that memory, the tomorrows are not a threat,
It is a promise, yet to come.