In the year of plague
A poem, by Gary Clayton
In the year of plague, in the year of COVID,
Like seeking our Daily Bread day-by-day,
Each day we looked to God to provide,
Each day we looked to God, to survive.
Each day we shopped to live, not lived to shop.
In the year of grace, in the year of COVID,
We didn’t ‘Give up church’ for Lent,
But learned to ‘do’ church differently,
Discovered that buildings close and meetings end,
But the Church – the Body, not the building, goes on.
In the year of contact, in the year of COVID,
Email, phone, letters, Skype, Zoom,
Messenger, WhatsApp, Microsoft Meetings,
These manmade messengers came into their own,
Carrying our voices, words, thoughts and prayers
To the homes of those – like us – forced to endure,
Stay at home, or sally forth briefly,
Hoping against hope that all would be well.
In the year of trial, in the year of COVID,
Some comfort ate, and some got fit,
Some went for a walk – or a run.
Some sofa-surfed on crisp-strewn couches,
Some grew their hair, while others grew apart.
In the year of fear, in the year of COVID,
We saw far fewer cars, and even less people,
Covered our noses and concealed our mouths.
Felt dread when we coughed,
Our eyes watered, or we felt unwell.
In the year, in the year, in the year 2020,
We lost friends. Lost family. Lost contact,
But gained something too.
But when the time’s ended,
And when the plague, the epidemic, the pandemic,
The outbreak ends – will we have learned?
Will we have changed?
Or will we just… go back to normal?
Image | Adam Niescioruk | Unsplash
Gary Clayton is married to Julie and the father of Christopher (16) and Emma (13). He worships at Hayes Lane Baptist Church and is Copywriter and Editor at Mission Aviation Fellowship (MAF) – www.maf-uk.org – whose 138 aircraft bring the love of Christ to 26 developing countries