-- Season of Hope --
John Herlihy
In this time of global crisis,
Let us remember the season of hope.
Not even the terror of ISIS,
Seizes us in its grip with such extensive scope.
The virus casts far and wide,
An intricate web of sinister intent.
Vulnerable humans cast aside,
Without understanding what it all meant.
The silence of cities
Echoes sadly amid many historic sights.
As the darkness descends,
A ghostly presence roams depths and heights.
In the afternoon pigeons rest,
In contentment on the mosque dome.
Heads tucked into their chest,
Feeling as though they were at home.
The flowers lie in place content,
The cascading bougainvillea and the sweet primrose.
With no reason to lament,
They simply nod their heads in repose.
Who can banish
The evil effects of this satanic spell?
Will it ever vanish?
No one on earth can predict or tell.
- - - - - -
(c) John Herlihy 20 March 2020
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It's difficult to understand the fatalistic people who exposed themselves to the virus, perhaps in the vain hope that their immune system could tolerate it and that they would be stronger after it was gone. Unfortunately, some of those ended up very sick, and of those that were sick, some died. But by being infected and acting "normally," they may have infected many more.
In spite of what your poem declares in the end, the experts say that if we vaccinate 80% of the people, we will effectively have wiped out COVID-19. Of course, if we do that, we will not have wiped out all of the viruses. They will keep mutating and coming.
Ron