Love languages, eclectic at their core
But they coincide with the universe
Our tongues operate the same more and more
Through crises, we too embrace the diverse
While we spend all our quarantine alone
This common ground we share will emanate
Decoding of the philosopher's stone
Reveals the dialect of human faith
Whether English or Spanish or Russian
Whether Chinese or Arabic or French
A poet's words will not cease in touching
Will not keep us trapped in this solemn trench
COVID-19 preys on the strong and weak
In turn, it's given us the words to speak
                        

Every time I wake from
Slumber, I am more easily
Startled during morning, noon, and
Evening hours; terror purveyed by
Networks and cables and satellites
Televising this necessary foray into
Introversion; which I no longer
Attribute to shyness, but the
Loneliness thrust upon the masses
                        

We will be the survivors of this:
Planning how to weather the storms of Armageddon
Tools at our disposal fueled by space:
That which we provide and the cosmos where we orbit
No longer do we need to assault:
In reality, our uprising is one of healing
We are already in agitation:
Protection in our hands; we are the gifts provided
In the midst of divine vision quests:
Shamanic ties between us and ancestral guidance
Periods become semicolons:
Stories still need to be told, for we are still at war
Now I find myself in this battle:
One which puts me on the front lines of viral ambush
I’ve got my altar to protect me:
Grapes and honey, Dionysus and Lakshmi appeased
Enriched by herbal sacraments of marijuana:
She will calm my anxiety and my depression
Masks I’ve worn no longer protect me:
They were the kind hiding all of my identities
My words have never been sanitized:
Though now the hands with which I write them are doused in Purell
But I’m not afraid to get dirty:
Paint and ink still are my weapons while we’re struggling
Revolution is upon us now:
The kind where artists have enough time for creation