Perhaps, In the After - Poem by Jessica Williams

Perhaps, In the After

We thought there was time,

endless expanses of time.

Three hundred and sixty-five days

in each-and-every year

no need to fear

if you miss a few.

 

And I guess it fell out of focus,

how much it mattered.

How desperately we need

these spaces

these places

to be.

 

It’s hard to recognize the magic in monotony.

 

So gathered together,

day after day

sitting side by side by side by side,

you’d find us staring at our phones

like we were searching

for something else.

 

But we couldn’t find it.

And we couldn’t find ourselves.

And we couldn’t find each other.

Until suddenly everything stopped.

 

Streets lay empty,

schools were locked

and the silence shook us from our slumber.

You might call what happened next a novel noticing.

 

Neighbours waved,

strangers smiled

and children playing

called us to consciousness.

 

For a moment

we all paid attention

to the sound of the world.

We went outside just to listen

to the earth come alive.

 

We turned our hearts

toward each other

and the turning made room

for a great wave of voices to rise:

 

they bellowed for a better tomorrow.

 

These are the prophets of the pandemic,

pointing to the possible.

 

Do not forget them.

Because when this is over

we must not return to normal,

dear ones.

 

But when we return

let us return with

bigger,

brighter,

braver expressions of love.

 

Perhaps,

in the after,

they will say that our eyes

having strained to see through screens

were sharpened

to notice things long overlooked.

 

And our ears,

having laboured to listen

through lagging wifi connections

were newly attuned

to hear in the sound of a human voice

loneliness,

fear,

courage,

joy,

sorrow,

hope.

 

Perhaps,

in the after,

they will say that our hearts

having endured the separation

were now strengthened vessels

able to carry love longer

farther,

wider,

deeper than before.

 

And our hands,

having longed for human touch,

were more ready than ever

to reach through walls

that divide us.

 

Perhaps,

in the after,

there will be brand new ways

of seeing and hearing,

of living and loving,

of knowing and being known.

 

By: Jessica Williams

Comments

[Robert MacDonald]

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