Pandemic
What if you thought of it
as the Jews consider the Sabbath—
the most sacred of times?
Cease from travel.
Cease from buying and selling.
Give up, just for now,
on trying to make the world
different than it is.
Sing. Pray. Touch only those
to whom you commit your life.
Center down.
And when your body has become still,
reach out with your heart.
Know that we are connected
in ways that are terrifying and beautiful.
(You could hardly deny it now.)
Know that our lives
are in one another’s hands.
(Surely, that has come clear.)
Do not reach out your hands.
Reach out your heart.
Reach out your words.
Reach out all the tendrils
of compassion that move, invisibly,
where we cannot touch.
Promise this world your love–
for better or for worse,
in sickness and in health,
so long as we all shall live.
Lynn Ungar 3/11/20

Opening poem chosen and read by Nancy L.

____________________________________________________

As I walked along the gardens, taking in the distant and close-up beauty, the intense color, the as intense birdsong, I stopped in my tracks on one sidewalk.  The azalea bushes on both sides of me were so filled with blossoms they nearly touched my cheeks.  I heard, then saw, the bees.  In and out of the blossoms, all around my head, the air above me.  Their hum was distinct, strong, enduring.  Without planning this standing meditation, I listened a while to the bees sound AUM….

Photo and reflection by Amy W.

___________________________________________

Widespread

All manner of things spread

here to there, there to here, moved

by water, wind, birds, spittle

touch.

Trying hard to

contain, 

we spread out, disperse, 

to resist the spread

of germs, pollen, rumors, fear 

or, we spread wide 

legs, arms, habits, hearts 

and in giving receive

passion, kindness, giggles, grace.

We decide the music, what wafts

through open windows, balconies,

on devices and screens–

haunting elegy, tender tango,

and whether to dance with the beat.

In all,

quite a spread

these unknown days 

a bountiful taste

of unexpected freedom

seasoned generously

with constraint.

Poem by Amy Webb, March 17, 2020

_______________________________________________

Love and kindness … reach out with our hearts and words, not our hands. Nature repeatedly reminds me of the cycles of life. New azalea blossoms are nourished by the decomposing oak leaves… over and over and over again.

Today’s overwhelming beauty and peacefulness in the garden gave me hope that this virus will be controlled one day; and that we as individuals and collectively as global citizens will come out the other end as more compassionate, kind and loving human beings that care for each other and our earth. I was filled with gratitude today for this refuge and sanctuary that is Brookgreen Gardens. How might I carry with me this sanctuary within my heart and home as I leave this amazing place? 

Photos and reflections by Nancy L.