Amb. Tunde OGUNYALE (©Marshar Poetry)
22.04.2020/ Ed. 140
We drop our heads as a withered plant
Troubled and inconvenient like a bird hanging on a line;
Involuntarily restrained from marking our regular chores, in the open heaven
Seeking refuge behind bolted doors,
Impatiently awaiting the Passover.
Our world is sick and under Corona siege,
We are restlessly searching for balm.
Till then, we belong to all but fellowship with none;
We know our people but trust none near us;
Proximity without contact now becomes the new found motto.
We are the citizens of the world;
Of this we have never understood better than now
We aren’t doomed for this also shall pass
We are the inhabitants of this realm, uniting forces and shared passion
COVID-19 pandemic is sickening
But our joint faith and action is healing
The storm is thick and raging
But we can and shall weather the storm
And restore our withered plant.
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