The yellow smoke fills

the grocery store shelves

and swirls past the lone can of peas.

 Outside, it blocks the sun

and licks the pavement

of empty streets.


I sit in my center

and watch it eddy around

the grimacing eyes

the protective masks,

the plastic gloves, and

the spaces between us all.


But those shields merely obscure

the true war, the one inside.


Suddenly, the mind’s claws

grab the spiraling market trends

the unemployment rate

the death count

 and hold on.


That is the truer virus,

which causes the real death.


Palms sweat,

nights turn long,

and the yellow doom lingers

over morning toast

and tea.


I call out to the Beloved,

see that face so clear and bright.

Slowly, I pass through a ceiling of clouds

and am back in the sunshine again.


The freedom to fly,

lit by the luminosity of love,

lifts me high above

the sallow mirage.


In that shift, I sacrifice all:

family and friends,

health, wealth,

security and love.


It is a small price.

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