Thursday, September 21, 2017

Late September

Image: Charlie Parant Appetite for Photos

















Time hides between the second hands
while evening takes the hinterlands;
the treetops bask in orange glow
as twilight falls upon the land.

Their shadows dance, simpatico;
as daylight fades we watch them grow;
while Autumn sings her ripened tune
and summer bedlam starts to slow.

And through the trees, a harvest moon
now peaks through shroud of cloud cocoon
ever soft, her afterglow
whispers “Winter’s coming soon.”

As late day sky turns indigo
the cawing of a lonely crow
reminding us it’s time to go;
...reminds again, it's time to go.

© Ginny Brannan 2017

*Image taken by Charlie Parant and used here with expressed written permission from photographer.

Sunday, September 10, 2017

The Time Thief

Another year has come and gone
how quick the days fly past
ever forward time moves on
nothing ever lasts

The secret of “forever young”
is not just youthful looks;
it’s in the friendships that we forge,
the ‘chapters’ of our book.

So dwell not on what isn’t done
and give yourself reprieve—
look instead from whence you’ve come
and all that you’ve achieved!

© GB 2017














A wee thought in honor of a dear friend's birthday.

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Still Searching for Answers













I have lifted my eyes to the heavens to pray
trying to renew the faith I once felt;
coming to find at the end of the day
that life as I know it is centered on doubt.
How can a God sanction such anger and hate,
the loss of a parent to such a young child;
the illness and pain that never abates…
too many questions left unreconciled.

We thank God for all of the good things that come,
but who takes the blame for the unanswered prayer?
Time intercedes until we become numb—
stuck in this place between hope and despair.

I believe there are angels who wander among us:
in the friend who just senses when you need to talk;
in the kindness of strangers when we are in crisis,
who lift and support us when we cannot walk.

Life lessons learned have hardened this heart;
still God bless the ones who can truly believe.
Blind faith without proof is really an art;
it’s in love and kindness I’ll find my reprieve.
 
Still I ponder the words that we heard in our youth:
to pray, to have faith that our voice will heard;
but have come to acknowledge this as my truth—
my divinity’s found helping those here on earth.

© Ginny Brannan 2017


“God helps those who help themselves.”
“Actions speak louder than words.”
 origin: 409 BC  Sophocles (before Christianity) from Wikipedia:
— “No good ever comes of leisure purposeless, and heaven ne’er helps men who will not act.”

Saturday, September 2, 2017

Displaced












Hope floats in little boats
through flooded streets and avenues
while silent cries rise in our throats

A factory goes up in smoke;
this life they knew now turned askew
their hope afloat in little boats.

The news folk capture every quote;
each sound bite shared for all to view—
while silent cries rise in our throats.

The charities all self-promote,
with daring clips of those rescued
floating past in little boats.

For leadership, the day was rote:
they paused a moment, then withdrew;
the silent cries rose in our throats.

Across the globe the world will note
the ones who stood and made it through;
their hope afloat in little boats
while silent cries rose in their throats.

© Ginny Brannan 2017

The aftermath of Hurricane Harvey