Covid Confronts Me

My heart is sad and heavy, Covid.

Seeking relief, I become angry.

I wonder if you're angry, Covid;

I wonder, is your essence heavy?

I'm angry that you’re bothering me;

but we humans, I know, invaded you;

we violated nature’s boundaries,

opening ourselves to invasion by you.

The balance of life is sorely askew;

there’s loss of meaning spiritually.

The gods we worship are power and greed,

self-exaltation; no humility.

I think I might be beginning to know,

I think I may be starting to see:

you're not the enemy I need to know,

you’re helping me see the enemy in me.

You got my attention by making me sick;

I think you’re the problem, certainly not me!

But the more I learn of what’s going on,

I realize you’re confronting me with me.

Harmless you were in your own habitat,

but bored human beings sought something new:

killed pangolins for scales, disrupted the bats:

your homes now destroyed, we became your new food.

But humans and Covid aren’t meant to be

helping each other symbiotically.

Instead we’re engaged in a life and death fight;

will even all these deaths help us see the light?

I'm a dealer in death, in disrespect;

I've failed to respect life’s intricacy.

I need to respect life’s intricate web,

to worship, be humble, sacrifice greed.