This Cynical Heart

Imagine a place with no pain existing,

where ills that are carried through life disappear.

Like Thomas, this heart is quite bent on resisting,

yet lingering questions insist on persisting;

their answers illusive and ever unclear.

And still I am finding my mind keeps returning

whenever the stillness and quiet appears.

I ponder the purpose of life, disillusioned—

the darkness that settles with no set conclusion;

for ages I've tarried, alone and austere.

I wonder how long I've withdrawn in seclusion,

closed off from emotion, my goals cast unclear—

Where cynical thoughts thrive without absolution,

despondent, in need of insightful intrusion…

does anyone notice behind this veneer?

In my heart I envision a child that’s running

and playing with others, no longer constrained—

surrounded by light of the love that he carries,

his purpose fulfilled, this small emissary

reminds us “Be happy, we'll meet once again.”

© Ginny Brannan 2015

Sharing at dVerse Poets Pub February 2015 OLN. Come celebrate the changing of the guard! Brian & Claudia, we are indebted to you both more than we can express—many thanks to both for all you have done, and for all of your support to the writers that share here. And all the best to both the old and new pub-tenders!

Time’s measured in a thin line on a cat’s back...

‘From the moment we are born we begin to die…’

 I no longer wonder what these words mean.

Aging is subtle and barely perceptible at first—

the skin etches one molecule at a time
& the cracks in our mask move with us
keeping illusions complete.

and time stretches seemingly forever before us—
    “Carpe Diem—seize the day.”

The days turn into years, the first gray hair appears
and the smile lines etch ever deeper,
    (not wrinkles, not I)
and I wonder “Where did time go?”

Yet

  I need no reminder


  the cost
no reminder how fleeting life is.

So, like the cat stretched & purring beside me
I immerse in the moment
For much too soon…
 … tick //TocK//tick
&time stands still

© Ginny Brannan 2015 (with Brian Miller & Claudia Schoenfeld

Written for D'Verse: Pick a Line

Sorry Claudia & Brian, you both had such great lines I couldn't choose, so I used two from each. (Lines borrowed in italics, Brian/light gray, Claudia title and lavender) Having just passed another mile-marker on this road of life, and still being in that melancholy mood of contemplation that follows this event, this was not difficult to write. Thanks for the inspiration!

Frozen

I hear your frozen words upon the wind

no doubt of the intent by their inflection;

like drifting snow, they sting and burn the skin

and often mid-discourse they change direction.

When did the icing of your heart begin?

No longer feel the warmth of this connection.

We rally for the masses once again

such perfect players living this deception.

The bitterness we carry is a sin;

I try, but never promised you perfection.

One biting phrase from you and it begins—

I set my stance to stave for the deflection.

Why do we keep on doing what we do…

   unwilling to admit that we are through.

© Ginny Brannan

Hanna’s Story: When Two Hearts Beat as One…

Inside this hellish limbo

the moments slip away

yet time drags on forever…

What god would take this boy,

this child from his mother?

Ambivalent, I pray…

and yet we know the answer—

our lives in disarray…

A cruel joke revealed:

this illness like no other—

white matter disappears.

Forever how we searched…

the answer so elusive;

each test inconclusive.

Now finally we know—

too soon we’ll see you go.

We chose your lot today

for when, at last, you sleep.

Until that moment comes,

will hold you in my arms.

Can barely feel a pulse

and yet I feel your warmth.

How can I say good-bye?

You will not see me weep

though deep inside I cry…

I haven’t slept in days

how can I rest these eyes?

…each moment left, a gift…

All I want is peace,

to ease away your pain—

perhaps a brief reprieve

from moment preordained…

                  then, when my time is through

                  I’ll beat a path to you…

                  and hold you once again.

© Ginny Brannan 2015

The image shared is of my two young cousins, Hanna and her son Cole. When Cole was born, his mother never realized the journey her life would take. Told at birth he was "normal," she would never hear those words again. Throughout his life he underwent multiple surgeries for hearing, eyesight, feeding, seizures. They travelled to Boston, Chicago, the National Institute of Health in Maryland  looking for answers. In early December an answer finally came—Cole was diagnosed with "Vanishing White Matter Syndrome." There is no cure, and very little time left for this precious 6 year old. Hanna is strong, she's had to be, yet no mother should have to bear the loss of their child. 

Written in first person, Hanna's voice.
In loving memory of Cole Michael Rapini, 2008 — 2/06/2015