Ode to coronavirus

0

As I lay here watching the world crumble from my phone screen,

I look outside my window.

The trees stand as per usual.
This time covered in soft freshly fallen snow.

Powdered white and frosted tips.

I exhale.

My busy schedule clears white as the snow.

At first I feel desperate, fearful, helpless, rageful.

But then, I simply sit.
And I simply breathe.

No need to fill this void.

Why not build a snowman in it?

Oh coronavirus, you are slowing us just like the snow.

Helping us to grapple what it means to be alive. What it takes to survive.

We grasp and wrestle in force and control.

And you say, surrender.

You say, rest.

You say, go home.

Maybe this is the time life as we know it changes for good.

Maybe we’ll soon forget about it and carry on with business as usual.

But regardless of outcome, you are asking us to pause.

To feel.
To reconsider.
To reflect.

Who are we?
What are we doing?
Are we happy?

Coronavirus, are you happy?
Who are you?
What are you doing?

We haven’t met personally yet, but I feel you coming for me.

I’ve been preparing my immunity for the fight, but I am also curious to know you.

Do you have a message for me?

How will it feel to have you dance in my lungs?

For now, I wait. I give gratitude for my strength, my health, and for yet another moment to pause.

Lindsey Aronson is a Spanish teacher, dance teacher, therapist and coach… a lover of nature, dancing and the wild synchronicities of this thing we call life.

Previous articleThe future of brewing in Boulder County
Next articleMarijuana in the time of the virus