Sheltering In Place: Poem #8

POEM #8

INTRODUCTION

I fell asleep in defiance of my muse. But my muse was determined for me to finish the verses it planted in my head way before midnight. By 2:00 o’clock in the early morning, my protest fell on deaf ears. I stayed awake until 5 a.m. as my muse was restless. Read to see how the verses traveled through a winding path. Even I don’t know how this poem would wind up.

I chose a photo taken when our family hiked the Camino de Santiago across Spain in 2010. The trails were varied. Flat plains, valleys, steep hills; muddy and rocky, straight and winding paths became additionally challenging when natural elements such as rain, hail, snow and scorching sun took turns to fight for dominion over land. 

The adventure symbolizes the current dichotomy between me and  my visiting muse; and in more severe terms, the unsettling dissonance between earthly beings and threats from the pandemic. Sadly, our adopted beloved country of Spain is in a dire state of the pandemic, as we are in the rest of the world, still my faith remains. For in spite all the unexpected encounters in the Camino, we reached our blessed destination and completed the pilgrimage. I pray, the world in due time will heal from this health crisis.  

The Winding Trail in the Camino de Santiago. ©James Sobredo 2010

SHELTERING IN PLACE

The danger it seems, around such

Joyriding muse

Is that it doesn’t really know  

From where its ideas emanate,

Or when its stream of consciousness halts,

And what precarious steep

Winding trail it takes.

As if that’s not punishment enough

To an out-of-control imagination

With a totally unknown

Or worse yet, forbidding destination.

Because this muse is unforgiving, 
It seethes through

While "sheltering in place,"

A statewide order fast becoming

Commonplace.

In emergencies, that means

Stay indoors until danger

Is abated…Sadly, the pandemic

Appears not to be

For the short term. The threat is far more

Widespread than the public

Was led to believe.

The threat

And losses are growing

Exponentially beyond our grasp,

Beyond capacities of many infrastructures

Aimed to sustain us, sustain

People’s livelihood, health and

Peace of mind.

Brokenness, incompetence

Or complete absence of systems and such,

Are shamefully exposed.

This is torture, my heart warns. 

When the body is cooped up, the mind

Under the spell of poetry gods, and

The beating heart nursing old memories,

Old wounds, new fears

Are in survival mode,  

Uncertain how all would end--

The poem, the muse, and humanity’s fate.

All involved lock hands to fend

When bewitched, or  

Used as an instrument

For the desire and amusement

Of one that has clearly overstayed its welcome

And chose to take shelter in place. My muse,

How will I and the rest of the world fare?

What should one do with you amid this crisis, pray tell?

Whatever the answer, don’t wait too long.

As Mother Earth overwrought with unspeakable sins

Suffers. Innocent children caged. Truths and lies

Made indistinguishable. A system overloaded

Should not be norm.

My muse sincerely wants

To petition God, all the gods

To please don’t let

This pandemic last too long.

The danger it seems around such

Joyriding virus

Is that it doesn’t care  

From where it emanates,

Or when catastrophe halts,

And what precarious steep

Winding trail it takes.

But people must care

Enough to shelter in place, help curb

The spread and heal the Earth.

Poem ©Lu Sobredo

Photo ©James Sobredo
ALL RIGHS RESERVED

About the Author 
Lu Sobredo is writer/publisher at Lu Travels Abroad, a blog dedicated to folks whose limitations do not hamper them from traveling. A year into early retirement her world collapsed from the diagnosis of Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA). Her total life changed, but she did not let RA define her. With love from family, friends and an awesome doctor, she regained some functionality--her new normal. She will have RA all her life. And she now writes about life and travel with RA. During the pandemic of 2020, she stays put and writes poetry and a first novel, a travel of sorts but in the heart and mind.