The Poet: Hopeful Anxiety

Now on hospital beds, they both lay:
Grandpa’s promise that assured attendance
At my first recital at the end of the school day;
And grandma’s promise to bake the cakes
For my friends who’d come to play.

Then comes the vicious claws of loneliness,
To grip my heart; suppressed by idleness.
The long jealous distance led by this virus
now has an audacious reason
To cut asunder our togetherness.

A thousand questions unanswerable.
Neither when nor how favorable,
could no one account for.
I have to embrace this bitter isolation
And in confusion cry out this sour condition.

Yet even in this corridors of loneliness,
I’m given room to woo lucrative thinking.
I am drowned in ideas that bring me fear,
Fear of the mighty me that had laid hidden,
Hidden for the donkey years I have eaten.

But on my weakest weaknesses
I have built a wall of strength,
I’ve painted it with a realization;
that though deadly, it still, is just a viral pest,
Beatable only by a staunch desire to beat it.

So I’m consoled with an enthusiasm,
Whose flipping fan fans out optimism,
And a fresh air that boldly spells out the fact
That ‘this too shall come and pass’
So now, I live by the breath of a hopeful anxiety.

By: John Ettah & Thelma Moses

2 thoughts on “The Poet: Hopeful Anxiety”

  1. Wow!
    Thank you for publishing this poem. But this was not written by only me. I co-wrote it with Thelma Moses.


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