I will miss the old normal, normal;
Especially back when‘ normal’ meant little to talking lips;
A time when abnormal was normal
And we dared not stop to think.
I fear tiring too soon of the “new normal” normal
Though eager to embrace that so-called new normal, normal –
Where people listen to the voices of raindrops; grow small gardens;
Smell flowers, talk to birds; disinvite smartphones to dinner tables
And drink sun rays indoors.
I might even learn to cuddle this new normal, normal –
Where people value connections; long for conversations;
Celebrate life through video-chats and refuse to be slaves to deadlines,
unfinished work projects, and bucket lists.
I could learn to sing odes of praise to this new normal, normal
And frolic under trees – socially distant –
Or reminisce on brief moments
when clean fresh air breathed loudly and rolled through our front doors;
when cars closed their eyes and stood parked;
planes muttered, but avoided the skies;
Trains stretched out their legs, but lay idle; and cruise ships bobbed and weaved
like busy rocking chairs, but stayed calmly berthed.
I will remember when my eyes blushed at news
of flushed bank accounts lying inactive – incompetent- unable to buy health or confidence.
I shall even reprimand my ambition for not noticing earlier a world
where privilege meant little.
I will definitely recall when politicians, tycoons, high-achievers, icons,
beggars, underachievers, nurses and doctors,
inmates and wardens, youngsters and elders;
introverts and extroverts;
were felled equally
by a silent equal opportunity virus.