From A Distance

"To be near something beautiful or precious, but to be unable 

to experience it is the subtlest possible form of torture."

Robert Johnson

From a distance, I watch neighbors tending to their flower beds and trimming lawns.  I miss conversations about the variety of flowers they have chosen to grow.  Friendly waves from across the street is the best to be done for now.

From a distance, I watch my dreams turn from spiritual flights of fantasy to exhausting scenarios of aligning services with people truly in need.  There is rushing to get medical supplies and simple hygiene  necessities, but there just isn't enough.  Of course these are all reflections of the fear building within me throughout the day.

From a distance, I watch old images of myself filled with empathy, kindness, and compassion.  Now the state of confusion, isolation, and uncertainty can at times overwhelm.  My visions narrow limiting my perceptions of what is yet to come.  I await for this heaviness to lift, as though it were a fog, so I all of my senses can experience the beauty of my world, once again.