by Jay O'Toole
We live much of life amid unique choices. Joy is anchored in The One beyond our life.
My living space, becoming small.
I'm here within. I've none to call.
Is there some hope, that all's not lost?
This separation has a cost.
My tiny life has kept at bay
the loving souls, who come my way.
I'd give them hugs if I knew how,
but all I've now is "wave and bow."
My life of smallness in a room
has four main walls, a kind of tomb.
Before we start to live, again,
defeat we must this virus sin.
I have not very much to do,
but look for water stains so new.
Yet, rare do stains as this appear.
The roof is fixed and hope is clear.
The others, who are like me some
were often wont my house to come,
but now their faces I see rare,
which causes oft my heart to care.
Fie, Bitterness, from me be gone!
My Day of sadness, now new dawn
to climb the mount of hopeful view.
I'm sick of thee, for aye eschew.
My soul's great battle, day to day,
is living from my loves away.
I see the news by YouTube post
as Sickness makes it's new day's boast.
But get a canvas, sling some paint
for this dark day a thief it ain't.
My creativity shall live.
More goodness to my world I'll give.
I have some wire to jewelry make,
and knitting yarn to joyous take
a-binding knots complete the round
as newly necklace, there be found.
A business now bequeaths me start.
This distance from my world imparts
a gift to draw me close, again.
No more defeat. It makes me win!
by Jay O'Toole
on May 25th, 2020