No joy shared today on hallowed ground,
Just quiet reflection and humble gratitude,
For the greatest of gifts most dearly bought.

I am unworthy, Lord, of your sacrifice,
I am unworthy, Lord of your love,
But through You I am made whole.

My faith in You sustains me in the most difficult of times,
You are the light that shines in the darkest corners of my soul,
You have died. You have risen. Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

The crucifix in my Church is draped or removed,
Since Holy Friday in remembrance of Your death,
As always in these solemn Holiday.

This year You are not only metaphorically absent for three days,
In remembrance of Your laying in your tomb 2020 years ago,
But Your Churches are empty--no vigils, no light, no life in them.

We, Your children, cannot even visit Your home,
Even those who like me don't do it as often as we know we should,
But feel the need to share our grief and our joy on sacred ground.

We will remain in our homes turned temporary prisons,
We will watch Mass tomorrow on our televisions,
We will share our signs of peace and joy at a distance.

These are hard times for us, Your children,
But nothing compared with Your suffering for us,
And we know that this too shall pass.

You have not forsaken us.We will be tested,
But we will not be broken, for we know,
You have died. You have risen. You will come again.

Our home turned into a prison,
Porting all my lectures online,
Working in quiet desolation,
Long past midnight.

Afraid to go out not for myself,
But for fear of bringing home,
What could prove a deadly contagion,
To the woman I love.

No long commute to work, it's true,
But also no sea of bright faces,
Greeting me, motivating me,
Giving meaning to my life.

No beautiful campus to walk through,
No national arboretum,
With foliage lazily unfurling,
From a long winter slumber.

No squirrels scurrying about,
Begging for treats or rummaging,
In waste paper baskets for discarded,
Gastronomic treasures in the quads.

No tender tendrils of tulips and,
Daffodils tentatively reaching,
Through their earthen blankets,
In search of the sun.

No sea of fresh faces hovering,
Throughout campus like,
Glorious butterflies freshly reborn,
From ten thousand chrysalises.

Each with the face of an angel,
Eyes bright and curious,
Looking ever onward to futures,
Where all doors yet remain open.

I am old when not in their presence,
But always young when among them,
As if newly emerged from my chrysalis,
Reborn, renewed, rewound.

Technology is wonderful,
I embrace it in most of its forms,
But human interaction is not meant,
To be reduced to bits and bytes.

I want my classrooms back.
I want my students in them.
I want them, my loved ones, friends, and colleagues,
All whole, safe and fear-free again.

This too shall pass. I know.
And yet I see the daily death numbers grow.
Death all around where my loved ones live.
Both here and in Spain. Both today and tomorrow.

I don't care at all for myself,
I've had a good life, most of it,
In the company of loved ones and,
Students become colleagues become friends.

But lives far more precious than my own to me,
Are at risk and I am helpless to do anything about it--
Save for staying indoors, in my self-imposed cell,
Surrounded by dead leaves and nary a butterfly.

The harshest of times,
Truly test our character,
Let us hope we pass.

When our trial is done,
Will we remember with pride,
Or heads hung in shame?

How we act today,
Will define our future lives,
Let's avoid regret.

Five years since we last spoke.
Five years since I last hugged you.
Five years since hearing you say good night on the phone.
Five years since our last dinner together.
Five years since our last daily talk on my long commute.

The time has passed so swiftly.
And so slowly.
The pain has abated to a constant hurt.
I need you dad.
I always knew I would.

I took you for granted too often.
I said I love you often, meant it always.
But I did not feel it as strongly as I should have--
Did not appreciate how very precious every moment was--
Did not comprehend how truly blessed I was to have you in my life.

Mom is now gone too.
The years after you passed were profoundly painful.
She did not realize you were gone--a blessing.
Eventually she forgot me too.
But I so miss our weekly visits too.

I always kissed her for you.
Three times on the forehead before leaving.
You always kissed her three times.
I hope you were there sometimes.
And I hope you were not.

You are both together now.
Resting side by side.
I will join you both when God calls me home.
And will miss you both every day meanwhile.
Until we meet again.