Hard times make some people write poetry, while some cannot.
For myself, the hard times have always become an even stronger fuel for my writing. I´ve always been grateful for this, and seen it as a blessing; it helps something good come out of it.
In the spring of 2020, as the pandemic began taking bites out of us, I began writing poems for my next collection.
Sometimes my hand just seemed to write them by itself, pushed by an internal tension that forced me to get them down on the page.
How does one write about something as monumental as a global pandemic?
One pandemic later
Will I love again
one pandemic later?
Will I live again
one pandemic later?
Will I long again
get loved again
one pandemic later?
Or will I leave
never to be seen again
my name forgotten
never to be said with love again
one pandemic later?
– Daniel Skyle
Few of us in our time have lived through something similar; maybe the rare living survivor from the time of the Spanish Flu could describe how much worse things were for them when there was no cure, not much understanding what was happening.
And we are seeing the first real pandemic in a time of social media. For good and for bad, humanity is now woven closer together online, supporting each other through love, yet more at risk of incorrect information on the pandemic and the vaccines finally coming.
How does one write about something that touches every soul on the planet, either with the grey brushstrokes of worry and sadness, or with the thick charcoal lines of grief and death?
My hand keeps moving, keeps forcing me to put these thoughts and dreams of the pandemic down on the page.
Daniel Skyle
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