Slow Poem by Rosalinda Flores Martinez

Slow



I thought all would be well if everyone stopped

From a new day and night that seemed forever.

Racing no more, tired faces gone,

When all have slept and rested.

I said all would be well.

But doom was creeping.

In our empty streets

Hunger lurked, turned us into goths

And maybe a mirror of chaos.

Slowly, everything comes slowly, wise.

We have learned while the earth heals

Forgetting darkness and pits.

We come as one

We come close in distance

We come so close and naked -

Turning only to the luminous sky.

This too shall pass.

Christ, our Lord, is risen!

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