Monday, May 22, 2017

It's All Part of the Promise...























The words fell away when we were young
they rolled off the tongue with the sweet invincibility
of youth, whose only truth was the dream of  
     “Happily ever after…”

The answers we need remain hidden and masked
in youth’s ignorance are left silent, unasked—
and when the storms come, as they always will,
when easy route stops and the path starts uphill
~ will either or both remain up for the task?
The words to "the promise” stay burning within
like a mantra, they echo again and again…
when worse comes a-calling, when poorer prevails,
when time takes our youth, and when illness assails—
we find that those smooth seas were just a illusion
for life‘s often messy and  seeks retribution.
When the unknowns give way to the hard lessons learned,
the depth of devotion will then be discerned.
So we listen as “promise” is given once more
and hope the new couple will  find what we’ve found:
that love isn’t measured in points that are scored,
nor in how hard you fall, but how well you rebound.

The road that lies waiting remains undefined
   we will never foresee all the changes in course;
 it's determined in part by a love that endures
  and confirmed in the warmth of the hand holding yours. 


© Ginny Brannan 2017

For Mike and Ashley, a gentle reminder to be kind to each other, to forgive each other, and to love each other with all that you are. 

Monday, May 15, 2017

It's Not The Rain, But The Rainbow...

Image: J. Hesch  Used with Permission













Another rainy day dawns,
the gray clouds heavy laden on the horizon,
they blend with the mountains:
heaven and earth indistinguishable;
our spirits are weighted down
soggy as the leaves on the apple tree,
muddied as the splash-back
on the newly planted flowers.
Once, we shrugged these days off
as we waited the sun to come,
as we surely knew it would.

The darker days seem longer now,
as I scour the sky, searching for that thin spot
where the sunbeams hide,
waiting for the final break
that lifts the clouds to dissipate.
I scan the heavens for the sign—
that rainbow—the ‘promise’
that brighter days are coming,
that there will be a reprieve…
if I can just muster the patience, 
the fortitude to hang on
and, channeling the child I was so long ago,
look beyond the clouds and believe.

© Ginny Brannan 2017

Friday, May 12, 2017

In a Heartbeat...













Ba bump ba bump ba bump ba bump…
my heart races at eighty-five beats per minute;
faster as I push myself to finish what I’m doing
so I can move on to something else.
I set the bar high, my own expectations higher—
the fear of restructure, replacement remains
a ghostly shadow hiding in a corner of my mind;
for I know all too well that I am dispensable,
that it’s never about the work, but the bottom line.

I‘ve wondered, how does one pace oneself?
Is there even such a thing?
Acutely aware that at this age, this stage
life should be about slowing down,
enjoying each moment…
unsure if this is wearing me down
or keeping my mind alert; keeping me young.
I am reminded on a daily basis
of how life can change in a heartbeat;.
So, like the ‘Little Engine That Could’
  I keep chugging away while I still can

...ba bump ba bump ba bump ba bump ba bump.


© Ginny Brannan 2017

Saturday, May 6, 2017

A Feast for the Eyes

Image: G. Brannan













A soft rain falls upon the garden
coaxing life from winter’s sleep.
The birds return, reverse migration
in their song lies winter’s pardon;
as season shares an invitation
that we, in turn, attempt to reap.

Lilac, dogwood, rhododendron—
the apple blossoms drift like snow…
they share again their ageless story,
as in succession, so they grow.
The Spring explodes in all her glory
and we embrace her bright tableaux.

© Ginny Brannan 2017

Thursday, May 4, 2017

Just Three Simple Words










How sweet the innocence that’s found
in children and the elderly;
the joy unbounded they exude
with love both simple and profound
that for the rest of us, eludes.

The young with their straightforwardness—
a child giggles, happily
untainted by the world beyond
with no reserve or attitude
their love shared, unabashedly
both color-blind and rainbow-hued.
In turn, receiver then responds
in kind, to share this special gift
that’s given, unsolicited;
and so we’re captured in this bond
that we embrace with gratitude.

The elderly live time reversed—
they’re locked inside their solitude
so often jaded and despondent.
Yet laughter often lifts this curse:
we watch their spark return once more
to leave us humbled and subdued.
I heard your words, my heart expands
within this bond that we have shared,
this momentary interlude
between two friends of circumstance.

Within a world of happenstance,
so often words get misconstrued
or took for granted once they’re said.
Without reward or recompense
they’re left ignored as they accrue.

And what is learned through this review?
    —We must embrace each "I love you."


© Ginny Brannan 2017

Sunday, April 30, 2017

One for the Writers











It starts with a thought, a word, an idea
scratched upon the page…
pulled from the pit, the well, the abyss, the cache
within my head—
prompted by image, an event, an emotion
from something felt or read.
Layer upon layer we build the tale
into something we can share
Then post the words, forevermore—
that all might find them there.

*********************************

Here’s to the ones who feel compelled
to express what’s in their souls;
whose compulsion borders on obsession,
whose writing makes them whole.
You compose the notes to a symphony
and we, the eager reader, hear the song.
We are swept away by your music,
and in the words find common bond.

© Ginny Brannan 2017

Saturday, April 29, 2017

The Road Taken

Image by author.
















Sometimes we choose the road we will take,
planning our journey, mapping the route,
choosing the highways and byways
often with a specific destination in mind.
But even the best-laid plans may run amok.
Often the road diverges; we are faced with
potholes and pit falls, unplanned detours
past torn up pavement and unforeseen construction.
We still hope to arrive at our destination
yet knowing it will be much later than we had hoped.
Sometimes we are even forced
onto a whole different pathway,
and must regroup to outline
and plan a new course.
No matter…for it was never the destination
nor the route we chose at all…
Rather it is the folks that join us
for some or all of our journey;
whose pathways parallel our own—
who offer us camaraderie and friendship;
we find comfort in their companionship,
in knowing we do not face our journey alone.

…and for me, that has made all the difference.

© Ginny Brannan 2017

Day 29 NaPoWriMo  (optional) prompt. Take one of your favorite poems and find a very specific, concrete noun in it. After you’ve chosen your word, put the original poem away and spend five minutes free-writing associations – other nouns, adjectives, etc. Then use your original word and the results of your free-writing as the building blocks for a new poem.

If you hadn’t guessed, my word is  “road.” Apologies to Frost, my favorite poet, for plagiarizing some of his words and switching this up from “The Road Not Taken.”