When This Is Over...

When This is Over…

We will breathe, dance, run, prance,

And laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh

Physical distance won’t rule the way

We will connect, high-five, shake,

And the space between us will fill with friendship

We will embrace our neighbors, strangers, children,

And move without worry

We will touch, recover, hug each other

We will gaze together under the slightly larger asteroid from space,

And cry

We will wake with new vision, light, love, and faith

Within and without and between and about,

And the lights that have gone out

We still won’t like poetry

We will realize the line between need and want

How much we have,

And mourn

When the noise is gone,

And the lights have faded, the air has calmed

What will we have learned?

We will think twice before canceling plans to stay at home

We will learn to be fearless in the face of fear

Because our love for each other is stronger

We will be inclusive, joyful, and grateful

We will understand that a person’s worth is more than a paycheck or title

That everyone deserves health care and more than minimum

That retirement funds don’t trump well-being

Our planet will be graced with healing

Will we be who we were before?

Will we carry this experience for more than a moment?

Will we help the many people still hurting?

Will we take each other for granted?

Will we be happy with less, and willing to share?

Will we be ready to do this again?

Will we be still?

We will gather in restaurants and feed each other

Drink deeply, have date night, and get our hair done

Anybody want a peanut?

We will remember fear, sadness, strength, and peace

Meals with our families, Zooming together

Missing our teachers and students, learning at a distance,

And the power of art

We will get married,

And something else starts

We will remember when people asked us to share the first

Blue picture on our phones

We will no longer compare, divide, judge, and separate

We will take up the “vorpal sword” and fight the “slithy toves”

We will show some spine and shine

We will be political, civil, and responsible,

And we will admit when we were wrong,

And do better

We will all know how to wash our hands

The right way

We will have moments of life renewing change

We will have learned to savor the simple things

There will be a new normal

We will be proud of our choices and say, “This I did, this we did”

We will honor the heroes and be grateful

And see the world anew

  

Thank you to the poets who contributed to this piece: Chip Anderson, Matthew Aaron, Susan Adamo Baliles, Matt Barinholtz, Emily Anne, Hannah Benson, Eileen Berman, Christine Blevins, Sherri Bresn, Shenach Cameron, Roberta Cohen, Helen Crowley,  Marla Davis, Paul Degen, Allan Dorfman, Jessica Lensch Falk, Joel Finkle, Patricia Fragen, Abby Forman Gagerman, Susan Schaumberg Gorman, Audris Griffith,  Gerald Guglielmo, Leora Hatchwell, David Hirsch, Bevin Horn, Scott Horwitz, Debbie Hymen, Tracy Jacobson, Andrea Haynes Johnson, Maralyn Kolze, Audrey Cohn Levy, Eli Lovejoy, Susan Meredith, Suz Alaine, Ben Nick, Besflores Nievera Jr, Mary Vanderbeck Parker, Phil Patton, Julia Bauchner Roth, Marisa Roubik, Frances Salvato, Allison Grockis Schlender, Randy Schultz, Sheila Sebor, Jim Shepard, Danette Sills, Steven H Silver, Harry Steindler, Ryan Wiczer-Leist, and Marcy Wingard.

The story of this poem: Like our work to “flatten the curve,” this poem was a group project. It started as a post on Facebook. I asked my Facebook friends to write a list poem with me. I gave them the start, “When this is over…”  and they wrote beautifully!

All of their words form the word cloud image that accompanies the poem here. I took their words, found themes and repetitions, feelings and thoughts, and created this version of the poem. While not every phrase or sentence from every poet is included, I tried to include something from each poet’s contribution. I apologize if I have not done this as completely as some of the poets would want.

This poem does not have to be finished. Feel free to keep writing it – as a group, on your own, or any way that has meaning for you. It is not over.