“Laughter is the best defence against madness,”
from somewhere in my garden
my god decries.
The hyacinths
are at their most beautiful –
white, pink, red, blue, and I cannot tell
if they are laughing at us or with us.
The full moon has burst her sides
(reminding me of lysis – the bursting
of cell walls, expulsion and release
of viral progeny like a sneeze).
“This crisis is no longer a laughing matter
with its potential to bring a tear to our eyes,”
I reply whilst acknowledging it’s laughable
how a strand of RNA in a protein jacket
can cause such mayhem worldwide…
… panic buying… shelves depleted
of curly strands of pasta and the virulent
internet replicating and replicating our demise…
“Stand your ground in this garden and breathe
the fresh spring air, laugh well, laugh deep,”
my god’s voice rises from Annwn grounds me.
“I can save none from the tragedy and sadness
in which my realm and your realm are steeped but
laughter is the best defence against madness.”
From Peneverdant 