As the world darkens,
don't forget to count the stars,
you'd be surprised to see so many of them
shining a little brighter tonight,
you might possibly lose count.
And not just the ones in the night sky,
but the ones hard at work on the ground -
the doctors, the nurses, the janitors,
the police and army forces,
the garbage collectors, the supermarket workers,
the ones who deliver our meals and our mails,
the ones who deliver love in tough times,
the ones risking their lives,
the ones shining bright behind silent twinkles
to save us.
P/S: This poem was also written for today's writing prompt, "Don't".
The world may seem quieter these days, you would wonder if it’s pausing for a hug, if it’s embracing you with a kind of stillness you had never discovered, if recent raindrops had showered the earth with an extra lullaby, and you would wonder if the pavements leading to the school hallway, the roundabouts you‘d usually circle to get your toddler to nap, and the wide open fields that welcomed your first cartwheels are doing okay and if they remember the sound of your footsteps, except that they don’t even need to try.
The world may seem quieter these days, but only as a way for you to listen. The footsteps of your children may form an orchestra of their own as they hurry down the stairs at home and up again in between fits of laughter. And even those giggles seem to come in rhythms you wouldn’t have noticed in between your usual daily rush. And then there are the skipping heartbeats at night as your fingers meet your child’s before bedtime - these heartbeats seem a little louder now.
And the pavements, the roundabouts, the wide open fields; they could hear too.
Maybe the grocery list
isn't just
"butter
bread
juice"
Maybe if we read between the lines,
just maybe, we might find
the tired handwriting singing out loud -
"I want to bake you your favourite cake,"
"and even if I don't,
I still want you smiling and safe,"
"I love you, stay safe."
