Something invisible, terrifying, beyond our walls,
just outside the door, scratches at the window, waiting.
We fear it has come to destroy us and perhaps it has,
those spiky red Christmas balls spreading across screens.
We’re not good at the moment, no, we are frightened!
Truly we’re at war with ourselves, at war with Fate itself,
as quarantine and job losses offer tremendous suffering
and tremendous teaching that go together, hand in hand.
Locked inside our body, locked inside our house, we try
to hide our deepest fears behind sterile, protective masks,
from a foe that attacks the breath, the lungs, the Atman.
Does Corona not know that breathing is necessary for us?
Yet, as we collectively dethrone the ego, the imbalance
of our past life allows the archetypes to step in, tailoring
time, as the Day of the Moon no longer looms ahead.
Instead, we tiptoe around corners asking – is it Monday?
Copyright © Deborah Gregory 2020