Coro-nation

Fight/Plight

Coro-nation

By: Arlene Richards 2020

A drop of blood from his crown

Falling aimlessly to the ground

Seems so insignificant

Yet so relevant

The oak tree bleeds

No one cares about the falling seeds

Its wounds lay bare

The enemies jeer

Its branches lay lifeless and cold

Dragged to the mill

And put in a hole

I can’t touch, I can’t feel

Six feet is surreal

Distance is paramount

Flatten the curve and lessen the count

A number someone might remember

Six feet up or six feet down

Live or drown

The hands that slipped from mine

The smiles that faded with time

No sound, no breath, no life

Unable to revive

A mighty oak knows when it’s wounded

A mighty oak knows when it’s bruised

Is its sap a healing potion

Or is it tears of desperation

Is the shedding of tears a sign of healing

Or is it overflowing of sorrowful feeling

The ash of a burning tree,

Is it the dying of a nation,

Or the fertilization of a new generation

Is powerlessness a sign of dependence

When we come to the end of self

When will we realize the evidence

Of true providence

I see new life bursting

Healing its wounds and masking the scars

Tomorrow, will I be able to tell

That this tree was wounded

By the lush green upon its head

Will the lost branches be forgotten

Or lives in the new begotten

Is the crowning of a new nation

The prize of a lost generation

Corona wounded the nation

And stole its vitalization

But only God can bring

Healing and restoration!