The Spring We Lost…

March 20, 2020

There’s a stillness to it, this lost spring.
No cars passing, absence of drunkards in the night,
eying girls with bad intent.
Hollering obscenities at each other.
No planes in the air.
In Venice, the waterways are becoming transparent,
In Norway, algorithm driven humanoids out hording alcohol.
Netflixing in low quality mandatory mode.
The internet is melting.

There is no stillness to it, this lost spring.
Confined in small apartments without a chance
of catching one single ray of sunshine.
What could heal you, is now forbidden.
Fresh air is contraband and rebels sneak out –
Young rebels, with no care for the war drums,
Old rebels, with care for their health.
They need the movement not to wither.

There is no stillness to it, this lost spring.
Fall wintertime again, all along the battered coasts,
What will be labeled “The Covid Generation” will be born.
Leaving stains in our timeline for decades,
so we can remember this “Age of Fear.”
Social distancing in the uptick of social media
Tactile alienation.
Will we still remember what it feels like to be
Touched, Kissed?

There is no stillness to it, this lost spring.
Police kicking the rebels in the guts,
all down the Champs-Élysées.
Americans storing toilet paper and guns,
People’s exodus to the rural –
Cities are designed for control
They see now, in hindsight.

There is no stillness to it, this lost spring.
Newspapers on the melting internet up ticking,
Not giving up their exploding revenues, pushing further
and further and further with: No stories, but fear stories.
People cheering the loss of freedom and movement from balconies,
singing national Anthems from their overpriced cells.
Dystopian, disturbing, all is upside down.

There’s a stillness to it
When We see with eyes that has gotten strangers to light,
The battle to take back our rights that were stolen
while watching low quality TV

There’s a stillness to it
when we evacuate our small habitats
of mandatory, self-imposed confinement
so willfully compliant.
There will be no stillness to it
as The System of Fear will crumble,
Descending back into the Hell
from which they escaped.

There’s a stillness to it
as we run and play on soil soft as summer.
Wake up – we cheer
and a thousand years of joy
embraces a new celestial pulse
in this before so dark, dark place.

There’s a stillness to it –
When we all can love again.

©2020 Soren Dreier – Services

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