Stolen Spring

Our spring has been stolen.
A virus so malevolent
hits worldwide, not intelligent
for it leaves us broken.

Birds sing on my terrace,
air is purer, less pollution,
a positive contribution,
a moment of solace.

Yet people are dying
while spring comes and knocks on our doors.
We hear nothing, trapped in our moors.
And birds are still flying

over blossoming trees,
over the non-confined nature.
We’ve been deprived of that rapture.
Who’s gonna pay our fees?

Who’s gonna pay the rent?
Universal Basic Income,
or shall many people succumb?
What are we to invent?

For those who will have less,
who already lived in poverty
and who will live more somberly
a stolen spring careless

of those who suffer most.
Who’s short of breath encounters death.
We are soon facing megadeath
of those trapped by the ghost.

It’s all incognito.
Flourishing is our stolen spring
yet we cannot display our wing,
a general veto.

Just basic services.
We’re not allowed to go outside,
only basics and then inside,
such is the acuteness.

For those who have no home
situation’s worst on the street,
it will depend on what they meet.
They’ve long been left alone.

For those that are abused
by many a family member,
will home as their hell remember,
all left alone, subdued.

Our stolen spring’s laughing
outside with flowers in blossom.
Intensive green trees are our balsam
but must stay home coughing

or at least we prevent
a greater collapse of system,
although some are facing boredom,
of freedom a fragment.

How I long for this scent
of young tree leaves in full blossom,
of nature in spring, such balsam,
now my crippled intent.

Time encapsulated
while spring unfolds its blossoming.
Perhaps a young star is coming,
a new spring belated

for our humanity
a rebirth of hopeful doings
to get rid of evil doings,
for solidarity

to rise from the ashes,
to take the chance to start brand new,
to rescue us from deepest blue.
Wind that evil smashes

I feel it on my face,
in my body and soul express
as I want to combat distress
and sense there’s a new place.

This planet must restart,
neve lose hope nor illusions;
let us work with best intentions
from the very deep heart.

Dreaming air of freedom
I took golden wings to dance on
my terrace thinking that we won
and defeated treason

when history books speak
about what we are living now
and try to tell people how
we defeated the peak

of a virus so bad
that I give you my wings of hope
to feel that we’re all tied to a rope
of which we must be glad

as it means salvation,
invisible rope to help us.
To get rid of disgusts
I’ll give you intonation

within my wings of hope
that you will sense during this dance
which should represent greatest chance
and a dream of large scope.

Our spring has been stolen.
A virus so malevolent
hits worldwide, not intelligent
for it leaves us broken.

Yet I dance with my wings
of hope and pray for solution
for humanity’s salvation
as I trace golden rings

in the air we breathe
to pay homage to all heroes,
to each person that comes and goes,
to every one beneath

the pillars that sustain
healthcare, foodcare and providers
of all we need. They’re our riders
to help contain the pain.

Our spring has been stolen
but there are always wings of hope
tied to an invisible rope:
this dance is not broken.

ยฉ 2020 Marta Pombo Sallรฉs

And this is my dance Wings of Hope:

52 thoughts on “Stolen Spring

  1. Yes Marta, those who are gone will never come back. Many are knocking at the door. We, who paid the price of our own follies, dance to the tune of the powerful. We say never again and then go back to our own ways. Where lies our salvation? Nature has not abandoned us, we do not hear her cries.
    I tried to reblog but did not work. Not sure why.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Thank for this great comment, Pranab. Always a pleasure to read your thoughts and feelings. Don’t worry about reblogging. However, much appreciated. Stay well, safe and healthy.


  2. Sad and true, Spring or (our Autumn/Winter) is stolen, however, I would give it away if we can save all those lives lost and those who will be taken in these terrible times. It’s beautiful how your words and dance complement each other. Be safe my friend.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. “For those that are abused
    by many a family member,
    will home as their hell remember,
    all left alone, subdued.”, these lines, I never thought about it.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. It all forms part of the consequences of the lockdown measures which we know are necessary but more harmful for certain people who have violent family environments. Even confinement shows terrible inequalities and inequities in our countries. I am glad I have been able to communicate this successfully with my poem.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It indeed is paradoxical, we ought to be home but there are people who have no homes and there are people for whom home isn’t the home they wish to dwell in.

        Liked by 1 person

  4. These certainly are strange times – it almost feels like a punishment from Nature as it seeks to heal itself at our expense. Perhaps we need to remember that we are part of a mechanism that is larger than ourselves. I feel that, over here at least, one serious issue is how out of touch our government (based in the affluent South) is with the general populace: financial issues which have been put into place are unsustainable, yet I’m not sure of how people will manage otherwise. The media doesn’t help either, focussing onlt on worst case scenarios. But, as you say, there has to be hope.

    Liked by 3 people

  5. One of the many things that I love about your work (and, I believe, your general outlook on life), is that you bravely call out the injustices and tragedies of this world while simultaneously kindling a faith in humanity and the power of collective action. It is the spirit of a leader and a revolutionary! It’s just what we need right now.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Wow, thank you for this thoughtful comment, Ursula. I think I talk more than take action in real life. There is so much each one of us can do to fight injustice that I always think it is never enough. I am glad you have enjoyed this post. Hope you and your loved ones are safe. Hugs, Marta.


  6. Hi Marta, it has been more than seven months, I guess, since I read your work. Today, I opened WordPress and immediately searched for your blog.

    After reading this poem, I felt so sad. These days are so hard for everyone and I couldn’t do anything but agree more. You truly have put out everything out there that one is witnessing right now. To be honest, it scares me sometimes. The places I once used to go, the ones which used to beam with the sound of happiness, are dead silent now.

    But then in your work itself, you have gifted me the greatest treasure a person can give to other beings; Hope (and what is better than a beautiful dance to accompany it with). Every time I read your work, I can not help but thank God that you exist.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much for your thoughtful feedback, Preksha. I am so glad you have enjoyed this post and taken it that, despite pain and fear, there is always hope in our lives. A pleasure to hear from you again. I hope you and your loved ones are well. Hugs (though virtual), Marta ๐Ÿ’•

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you, Preksha. We live in Catalonia, a stateless nation within the Spanish state, very near Barcelona. So good to hear you are all well. ๐Ÿค—๐Ÿ’•

        Liked by 1 person

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