And We Felt Them

In the Spring of 2020

Skyscrapers that were once
the fictional sanctuaries
of frivolous boys
were replaced by homes; real sanctuaries
where frivolous boys remembered
that they were sacred men.
Men who learned they were held
most precious
where they were most needed.

Fears of deadlines were replaced
by fears of deadliness
and the addictive gossip of the break room seemed to fade into petty insignificance.
We went from salivating for the latest dirt
to digging in it
as uncertainty of fate prompted us
to sow seeds in new gardens
that promised us life
when nothing else would.

Shouts across 5th floor cubicles
turned into whispers
across pillows.
Our lovers made the best coworkers
our children the best bosses.

We grew wiser instead of smarter
our ambition replaced by charity.

Thanking God became, for once, something more than just an exclamation
of relief.
It became our anthem
while we faithfully waited for a world
to heal
finding unexpected healing of our own along the way.

Games weren't played on manicured fields
inside of towering arenas
by imposing athletes in uniforms
and cleats,
but on well worn tables
inside of modest kitchens
with dirty dishes in the sink
by families in pajamas
and blankets.

In those moments where children's holey socks
became holy socks.

Books weren't carried from classroom to classroom
within ivy clad walls
but from bedroom to bedroom
between siblings
and generations.

Young pink fingers intertwined with ones that were callused and wrinkled,
naivete and wisdom breaking bread
through smiling eyes.

We climbed forgotten attic stairs
like weary souls ascending
into heaven,
yearning to be reunited
with the ones we loved most
that had left us.
With wetted eyes we lovingly looked
at their faded faces
and with fingertips caressed their smiles.

We closed our eyes.

And we felt them.

And we knew we'd be okay.

We knew we'd be okay.