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 May 2020 OpenWorldView
lX0st
It’s Tuesday, I think
Glass windows share few stories
In grey. The sun hasn’t found
An opening
Between my blinds
In days
***** dishes hardly inhabit
The sink. I wash them every chance
I get. It feels good to know
What to do
With my hands

It’s new day, I think
Curtains drape
In heavy embrace. I wonder
What warmth lurks behind them
That can’t be found
In my drink. Fluids slosh
And swell
In ambers beneath my skin
I wring my wrists of goodbyes
So bereft. It feels good to know
What to do
With my hands
 May 2020 OpenWorldView
Eloisa
I sang my anguish to the winds
And followed the ravens to the woods
The trees, the wildflowers
froze in silence
But the leaves began to dance
like witches casting spells
I howled and shouted my despair
The rivers seemed to wail with me
The way was dim, the path was dark
I took the trail and endured the pain
I felt the darkness and heard the silence
My heart was torn and lost
but it was enlivened
by the nature’s glorious tapestry
The little sunshine hues
that seep between the branches of the trees
The joy of streams, the thousand greens
The nature’s been my muse
It wakens my spirit and fuels my energy
Wearing its color spirits
I have now reclaimed my wild and magic
Am I a liar
For being someone I'm not
When I should be me?
Thanks for the help with this sis
 May 2020 OpenWorldView
Eloisa
Sweet silent sunset
Day lilies and daffodils
Faded fairytale
invisible
yet possibly deadly
it empties streets
makes us quarantine
cities  regions  nations
hits us unprepared
reminds us that pandemics
can also happen in our time

a few days ago I walked downtown
a strange quietness filled the air
made me react to noises and sounds
I had not even noticed
when streets were full with people and cars

     even the wail of distant ambulance sirens
     sounded louder and more ominous

I only saw occasional joggers
a few women airing their pet dogs
more bicycled food deliveries than usual

they hardly acknowledged my existence
glances did not meet
my friendly nods were rarely returned

we have all become solitary strangers
keeping their safe distance
pandemic quietness emptiness distance strangers
 Apr 2020 OpenWorldView
Eloisa
I hear the sound of prayers in the ocean waves.
I hear the echoes of hope in the winds.
I hear the trees and the flowers sing
affection and grace.
I hear my heart,
I hear the melody of faith deep within.
“The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day He created spring.” – Bernard Williams

“Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in the books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.” – Martin Luther
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