The City that Never Sleeps
Is now shut down,
Congregations have dismantled
With shrieks and a frown,
The end of the race approaches,
At the finish line stands, St. Michael,
Making sure we’re not treated like roaches.
For birds it’s a first,
To grace the skies with no fear,
In open air spaces of silence,
Through cotton cloudburst filled skies,
Emission free,
They’re cursed, hearing,
The spree,
Of ambulance sirens.
Dispersed medics, and nurses immersed in a desperate plea,
For a latent guarantee of respirators and gear;
To save the lives they foresee,
Without time for a cup of tea,
Or even to shed a tear.
New York nights turn dark and idle.
Coronavirus is on a deadly rampage;
Theatres close and spotlights turn off,
Provoking showmen to feel suicidal.
Seductive consumption is not worth the cough,
Since breathing is vital.
Celestial lights trail the milky way;
Glowing along the silver river routed cosmos,
Darting down their wrath against false thoughts,
Of a phony doomsday,
Imploring us instead to go within and pray;
For the homeless and hurting,
And for those who can’t pull through,
May there be pity,
And gloves for their needy,
Hands, to fight off our new enemy,
This mutating flu.
Beware of insanity, fostering fear,
And bigotry,
Favoring the strong to adhere.
Resist Nietzsche’s theory
That we do not like humanity,
And success is our only veneer.
Our crumbling Babylonia bears heavy loses,
And what’s worse,
We abate, by isolating behind bolted gates.
Our towering 5G incubator no longer cranking at optimal rates.
Aghast, we follow our allies’ example, towards a unified fate,
Surfing the wave of long-term effects,
Balancing on shifting tectonic plates.
Now we realize that love is an embrace,
A kiss, an intimate relation;
Waiting with desperate anticipation,
As if our loved ones were a blind date.
Earth is sluggish, barren and tired of mourning,
All the injured sentient animals,
Invoke a warning.
Time for a siesta at this eleventh hour,
Divine mother of fertility needs to reveal her power,
Reinstall civility, mind earth’s soil,
Purify water so fish aren’t soured.
And bees can live off blossomed sweet potent flowers.
Corona is just a catalyst,
Dressed in pandemic viral fashion;
Prompting us to respond with conscientious passion,
And brave the tyrants, persuading through treachery,
Against national healthcare and environmental sustainability.
Knowing full well, it’s an urgent necessity.
Without compassion our collective soul is in jeopardy,
Proving our ancestor’s efforts, a worthless journey,
An us being our own worst enemy.
©2020 Begonya Plaza