Pathogen Poem by john coldwell

Our cities and towns are forsaken,
Our doors are closed like a prison,
Our very lives have been taken,
A new deadly foe has arisen.

We are at war, we are at war,
And the air raids come without sirens,
The dead don't know that they are,
And the numbers are rising, are rising!

Come, we can defeat this together,
If we stand two metres apart,
Our isolation can't last forever,
We are told we must not lose heart.

But like children, we humans are grounded,
The aircraft are not in the air,
All travellers hopes are confounded,
In unmoving queues of despair.

O how we wept for the Earth,
And O, how we feared its extinction,
Not knowing that Nature'd prepared,
It's own remedial infection.

What now of carbon emissions,
Man made destruction's undone,
Our planet's detoxification,
By it's own hand has begun.

And we thought that we were the master,
With Nature's fate in our hands,
Turns our we're the disaster,
The real master has it's own plans.

Mankind is dying like autumn,
But spring flowers continue to bloom,
Our noisy hubris falls silent,
But birds still sing through the gloom.

The bitter pill has been swallowed,
The patient will soon be revived,
The doctors orders are followed,
And the viral infection has died.