Strolling Through the Graveyard in Early April

Strolling through the graveyard in early April,
I enjoy the warm sunshine.
I am not sure of the divine.
A man may take pleasure
Whilst not knowing whether
Mother Nature, or the Creator
Causes the sun to shine.

Both are divine.
And a minuscule
Virus does wait,
Unseen by the eyes,
To seal the fate
Of the fool
And the wise,
For it does not discriminate.

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