Here's a poem from my Pandemic Diary.

To plant things is to believe in tomorrow.
The boy waters the tender shoots
of the newly planted.
These times test our resolve.
Sometimes I look for signs
that things will be all right.
The air is clear. I can breathe deeply.
I have to believe it CAN get better.
I decide to be tender toward myself
and my helplessness.
The virus has no feelings. But I have felt a lot.
All those lives ticked off like they are only numbers.
But they are not.
It is the most tender of times
in the worst of times.
I once saw an inscription that said,
"Love is stronger than death."
And death is all around us,
singing its own song.
Right now the dog rests under a blue sky.
So many moments that skimmed
the surface of loneliness.
We are all surrounded by the lonely.
Each day feels the same,
the topic of doom a permanent fixture.
The days are so strange now.
Sometimes it feels too much to awaken.
There are birds at the feeder.
And the finches are going crazy.
We could not have imagined times like these.
I meditate on what matters most to me.
I meditate on this everyday now.