I have been content enough in lockdown.
I have planted seeds, nurtured them and watched them grow.
I have baked bread, and smelt it’s warmth like a comforting blanket.
I have heard anew, birds, singing in my garden, learning to recognise their calls.
I have worked hard but known the satisfaction of a job well done.
I have walked.
I have run.
I have clapped.
Yes, I have missed entertaining family and friends,
Giving my Mum a reassuring hug,
Or the simple pleasure of a café stop after a walk.
But I have been content enough in lockdown.
And yet I could not be content in this strange new world,
Watching the daily death toll growing, reaping its harvest of sorrow.
Feeling the sadness, as a blanket of shielding deprived the lonely of warmth and comfort.
Hearing new cries for justice, making their angry voices heard, demanding my attention.
Seeing others lose jobs, income and purpose.
But this is a strange new world of possibilities as well as pain,
So I cannot be content to go back to all that was in the past.
I want to walk,
To run towards,
And then to celebrate,
A better future.