We cannot see our reflection in running water, it is only in still water that we can see. This pandemic paused life, bringing it to a still. As it once was full to the brim of activity, it now lies in halcyon rapture, hushing mankind.
The earth knows not of haste, bedlam or dole induced by humans. It seems as Mother Nature herself contrived this meditation to heal sore wounds of hers. Anvil chorus of all men crooning in tandem of the global melancholy is heard around the clock. Both cynical and complaisant men are now alike in longing for the pandemic to end.
What I have learned is of as much consequence as to what you’ve learned. The dust has long settled, the water is at a still now, it is indeed the best time for self-reflection. I peered into my basin, my share of life, and drew long glances at what I saw. I learned of the wounds that have long healed and of those which still bleed. I heard the singing of birds in there somewhere, merging with a bane of longing echoing from a hollow. I sought to learn what hurt and love had done to me, and of the marvellous ways kindness brought joy.
I walked in my city of conscience at day and at night, trotted the streets of dreams. I learned redemption, forgiveness and hurt share a common address, but each led to a different path. I saw hunger in the alleyways and violence in a corner. I sought about the pillars of the cities, I built and the roads that led out of them.
I learned the axis is never at a still but rather always in pursuit of a higher destiny. It is at unease at times and in harmony at times. I saw in the faces of those who lived in cities of my heart the resemblance of people I loved on earth.
I learned that self- reflection is a journey to a better land and that every path I take is forever etched in the cities of my heart.
Published in Dawn, Young World, August 1st, 2020