A poem by Beverly Stock.
© Macgyverhh | Dreamstime.com
We depend on shields or masks,
Staying healthy was our task.
Conferences were on Zoom,
Meetings can’t be in a room.
I am all of 63,
Grandson’s math--a mystery.
Luckily, he is a wiz,
Hybrid learner’s what he is.
Now, I’ve put my tablet down,
Gathered books from all around.
Found a spot where I can be,
Quiet lingers just for me.
I’ve let go of frantic hope,
Released my angst, now just cope.
First to go, election woes,
It was not good to presuppose,
Via Zoom I pray at church,
Calm and strength part of my search.
Meditate on inner peace,
Always there, not far from reach,
Trials won’t stop, this I know–
What do you need to let go?
Church Marquee messages often inspire my poetry that asks big questions about small moments and inspires readers to revisit the issues we often overlook.