CORONA POETRY BEGINS… by Fiona Goodwin

Tremors, invaluable, and relatable
And yet relating to so much of what is real for me in my small world,
I live a small life confined by fears hopes and dreams
And in the divine conversation I talk,
Mostly I try to listen.

I don’t want to leave behind the familiar,
But my instinct is telling me that this is the only way –
To stop being who I am
So I can become who I am meant to be.

Unfamiliar, inscrutable, discomforting
Treason has in shrouded me and my planets,
With the betrayal of what is and what I am
In favour of a new beginning.

Sam started the beginning by dying alone
But by now have emerged in to light. I started my beginning in my home,
I’m curious about its voice
The divine conversation goes on.