sonia | A poem about sacred restrictions, compassion, and connection

At the same time as I feel dread and heartache, I've also been feeling relief and lightness and gratitude. Maybe I needed to stop and rest for a while. Maybe it's suddenly more clear everything I have to be grateful for.

This poem comes close to expressing what I've been feeling. Thanks for passing it along,

rosefox!

Pandemic, by Lynn Ungar
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What if you thought of it
as the Jews consider the Sabbath—
the most sacred of times?
Cease from travel.
Cease from buying and selling.
Give up, just for now,
on trying to make the world
different than it is.
Sing. Pray. Touch only those
to whom you commit your life.
Center down.

And when your body has become still,
reach out with your heart.
Know that we are connected
in ways that are terrifying and beautiful.
(You could hardly deny it now.)
Know that our lives
are in one another’s hands.
(Surely, that has come clear.)
Do not reach out your hands.
Reach out your heart.
Reach out your words.
Reach out all the tendrils
of compassion that move, invisibly,
where we cannot touch.

Promise this world your love--
for better or for worse,
in sickness and in health,
so long as we all shall live.

--Lynn Ungar, 3/11/20