Friday, July 3, 2020

The River of Denial

They called it a win 
when the plague slowed 
and fatalities dropped.
And though there was no cure,
they said we’ll “reopen.”
Now they say it is unlikely
we can beat this back.
How can we, when everything
is an affront to our “personal freedom”
and not even those in charge
can pull it together to set an example?
Yes, we’re Number One again…
—Number One in one-day total increase
—Number One in the overall cases 
—Number One in total mortality
another proud moment in American history.
Safety takes a backseat, and we learn
what we’ve known all along:
 American lives are expendable. 
Keep denyin’ y’all…
keep blaming those Chinese.
It may have started there,
but it’s dug in and hunkered down here,
and it ain't over till it’s over.
There’s enough “blame” to go around...
The president golfs.
Americans die.
Just another day in the U.S.A.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

Based on observations and comments read. Ultimately we are responsible for ourselves. Stay safe out there!

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

The Pull of the Moon

Half moon hangs heavy in late June sky
while evening birds and tree frogs 
serenade the sultry night.
Memories tumble forth 
of walks along main street
and the village backroads,
a stop to rest on the playground swing.
Was that eons ago, or just yesterday?
I still remember those summer eves
when the stars stretched before us
and time ceased to exist.

© Ginny  Brannan

Image: Mitchell Spector 2012 

Sunday, June 28, 2020

Stepping Stones

All those many years ago
when days were long and time moved slow
and moments seemed to stretch forever,
families gathered frequently 
for holidays and barbecues
the seasons passed so languidly
seems such an eternity ago

Then school inhabited our days 
friendships forged, some left behind…
Our want of change came from within
ever searching for some sign.
The time ticks forward on the clock.
we learn how harsh that fate can be,
but forge ahead,  as forge we must
and while we’re learning who we are
we’re also learning whom to trust.
Another step, another loss 
but there are gains along the way…
the confidence I’d never had
a gift from one who understands;
so the fool has found her voice
as hourglass metes out its sand.

We watch the seasons as they pass
the joys and sorrows fall like rain
with age comes the capacity
to separate the lies from fact
to learn from all our loss and pain,
while dealing with reality.
And through it all our children grow
the second hand moves faster now—
as sworn protectors of their fate
we’ve little time to contemplate.
The days all seem to merge as one,
we hope somehow we’ve done our jobs
to send them out into the world
but yet our work seems barely done.

And as we let these young folk go
this brand new generation born
—maturing ever fast it seems,
we pray they’ll come to recognize
as we were once so they are now:
filled with hope and bent on change
they wait to realize their dreams.
We hang our faith upon these young
may they do better than we’ve done
and may they keep their souls intact
upon the road they’ve just begun.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

Friday, June 26, 2020

No Going Back

Every day holds the potential
to do better than the last
—what’s passed is past.
We do not control all events,
only how we react to them.
Open minds know that greater knowledge
brings better understanding.
Once we understand the effect of painful imagery on others
are we so selfish that we are unwilling correct it?
If we live our lives in a shell and come to believe that 
our world IS the shell, then learn that there 
is a broad expanse of world beyond that shell
how do we pretend that it just doesn’t exist?

Just like we know that the earth is not flat,
  …it’s as simple as that.

Keep an open heart and mind.
Be kind.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

If we are not growing, we are dying. And if we lose our empathy to put ourselves in another's place, then we are nothing. There is no putting the toothpaste back into the tube. To do so would only confirm our ignorance.

Sunday, May 17, 2020

Survival Instincts

The wind blows fierce upon this hill
the mighty trees bend to its will
reminding us how, once again,
nature wields the stronger hand
sowing seeds of ripe discord
to undermine our very core.
Yet like the trees, we take our cue
when life apportions all we do;
and as another storm rolls in,
we rally to adapt and bend
and stave our roots against the wind.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

Thursday, May 14, 2020

Grasping at Straws

I find hope in the way the late day sun 
reflects on the rushing stream
a hundred thousand diamonds 
glistening, there for the taking.
I find hope in the robin, tiny twigs in its beak
busily building a nest for the coming brood.
I find hope in the brazen jay
stealing food set out for our feral cats,
lucky that he isn’t their dinner!
I find hope in the wren’s song
singing his cheerful ode to the day 
from the flowering dogwood tree.
I find hope in the stalwart dandelions
determined to take over the lawn
despite my best efforts to keep them at bay.
I find hope in the colors and the light,
in random acts of  kindness 
those reaching out to help others,
people helping people.

Despite our trials, the dark days
past, current, and yet to come,
we are still here, we survive.
All things are possible with you by my side–
In you, I find my hope,

© Ginny Brannan

Thursday, April 30, 2020

Best Foot Forward

For some it appears to be effortless
like breathing or blinking your eyes—
the words just form and fall into place…
–yet others, like me, still search nonetheless
to extricate perfect expression.

Devices and adages paint a disguise
where only the baptized might see,
the truth that is masked inside of our lies,
and whether each story is real or contrived,
in pursuit of our own evolution.

Did we rely, perhaps too heavily,
on abstract ideas or deflection?
Could you decipher the writer’s approach?
Did language and narrative flow fluently,
or did storyline lose its intention?

It really depends on the reader’s perception
just how they interpret the words,
and if they can feel what you’ve tried to reveal
and if so, give some vindication,
in this ultimate quest for redemption.

A writer shares stories with hope they’ll be heard,
that others will find a connection…
in each poem that’s shared,  there’s a piece of our truth,
and a glimpse of the pathways that we have incurred
in each word, a new revelation
on this journey to find our salvation.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

NaPoWriMo #28 I was shooting for 30, but this is a long one so maybe it counts for more! That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!!