A poem by LJ Kotrys.

Sent to us by Highlander Lisa Jane, from her temporary home in France. This photo was taken on the night it was written, as she climbed a hill to find the full milk moon, under the sheltering sky. 


As nations lie dormant in isolation

Many are left powerless, our prowess redundant.

Without routine, it would seem, or reason

to exist.

So how do we exist in this nation of isolation?

We must create our own routine and reason to exist.

And to do this from the inside not out, I insist!

No longer bound by imposed regimes

for our routines or reasons to go out,

instead we rest and reflect.

Inside is all that’s left.

And as we look in we begin

 to explore a world long discarded.

Through our own demons and triumphs we struggle

to find an old truth we can now make anew.

Who we were, who we are, who we were meant to be,

we find our self, our real self

our soul.

Our oldest friend, the only one who still holds dear

our inner intentions

 without exterior expectations.

So take hold of your soul, and hug her in tight,

for she will guide you through this night.

Press your hand to hers and embrace

This isoulation.