It seems I have a bit of a thing for one-word titles, eh?
I’ve barely written since physical distancing and lockdown began. The conversations surrounding productivity in the current climate have interested me immensely, and maybe I’ll write a little something and join the masses soon, but I’ve concluded that now is not the time for me to create my next masterpiece.
However, I do want to see what I can create in this period, not only because I have more time, but because it’s an important part of our history, and writing is a useful way for me to process complex feelings and ideas.
On that note, I gave this writing thing a go today.
Here’s what I managed to jot down quickly this afternoon in an attempt to get to grips with what’s going on through words.
I can only do what I can, right?
I hope this may bring you a little peace in the middle of all this coronavirus chaos.
Change arrived in the unclean palm of a hand,
in the ill-advised hug, and the visit to Gran,
on the bell on a bus, in a kiss on the cheek,
in the shared glass of wine at the end of the week.
It arrived in the morning, at midnight’s full moon,
in the midst of a lazy sun-drenched afternoon.
It came slowly at first, but then it was here,
and what was normality soon disappeared.
We dreamt of the ordinary life that we led
returning, as we hid from the world in our bed.
But Change is continual, each decade it flares
in one form or other; it disrupts and it scares
and we may never go back to exactly before
but we’ll learn to change with it, and we’ll become more;
more kind and more caring, more mindful and clean;
more grateful, content, and aware of the sheen
that covers each day with a delicate glow;
because Change helps us savour our lives; helps us grow.
By Jo Fisher