Pandemic Archive

Cocooned 20 20

By Michael McCarthy, Dublin . . .

Two weeks in

As the storm of micro cosmic entities hits

The shores of our consciousness

As a surge of feeling free

From what I don’t know

Makes me feel an excitement

Not felt since childhood summer holidays

Nothing to do

And all day to do it

A pandora box of unshackled imaginings

Dancing in my child mind

Just fueling bursts of ecstasy

Brought on by no demand

Of time or effort of thought or deed

Just magically entering ethereal realms

All possibilities


When will we emerge

To cast off our silky case

Spun by those who would protect

Or indeed imprison us

As pupae race

For our own protection

From hordes of invading micro species

Trying their best

To thrive and survive

And to what heavene’d adjustment

Is this due

To realise corporeal harmony

A micro biome

Trusting itself again

Talking to trees and plants

To once more enhance

And help

our micro selves to dance

Once more together.