The night of the world is ancient Winds whisper of fear and the Purpose of creation swept away We suffer again the fear of plague It goes by a different name A coronavirus transmitted Person to person The night is alone, dark Cannot speak out truth Will give no light at this time We do not learn Bring wrath upon ourselves Proclaim we’ll do our best Give our warnings to be safe The night is not all bad It is very temperate Allows for millions of dreams Often indistinct and incomplete Too often not remembered We awake un-rested Clamoring about existing danger The dark night offers no hope No flowers or sacred music It leaves us cold and alone Dwelling as we would in the light Where our cares are one-sided Our thoughts self-centered Foolish people that we are We make painful attempts at slander Shifting any share of blame Encase ourselves in strategy Like concrete in a broken mixer We are woeful, hopeless, and crusty Search in all the wrong places Avoiding appeal for His graces Stanski February 3, 2020 ^
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Steve Haarman 