Roads to a New Era

Put a refrigerator and an easy chair on the porch.

Sit looking across at the next door neighbor’s house,

Or up toward the white steepled church, on the mountainside.

But take notice…the roads that once took you there are gone.

Terror exploded on one safe, sunny day

Sending particles of isolationism, encapsulated in mistrust across the land,

Like a blanket, smothering the life out of our freedom

And destroying the roads we paved to connect our lives.

As we break dawn of a new era we stay on our own porch.

No roads or bridges to traverse between.

No rules to follow, no one to answer to…not even God.

For each are gods of his own world, his higher power limited only by his knowledge, experience or emotion.

Black sucking hole of fear…stay on your own porch

Looking across, eating from your own refrigerator, sitting in your own easy chair.

I’ll find a way to my neighbor’s house or the steepled church…

Even if I must grow wings and fly.

Modified April 1, 2020 for Covid-19