A few days ago, I re-read T.S. Eliot's poem, The Wasteland, which opens with the line:
"April is the cruellest month."
Eliot wrote his classic of modernist poetry in the aftermath of World War I, when Europe and America were reeling from death and destruction. I fear that Eliot's words may again be all too apt for the April we're facing today -- although the battle is against an enemy that's unseen until after it attacks. I take hope from the fact that, when Eliot wrote The Wasteland, the world had survived. Battered and weary, but carrying on. And, the world will again survive Covid-19, despite devastating loss of life and an economic toll that will be felt far into the future.