Friday, November 15, 2019

Dangling Participles

We look forward to these gatherings…
the camaraderie , the laughter
all the catching up we’ll do.
There’s warmth and healing here;
we draw strength from each other,
it carries us when we leave,
a gentle reminder of our time, memorialized.

I know we’ll feel the empty space,
the place that you once filled,
just as surely as I know you will be
with us, as you always were.
Your humor, your laugh
– is in each of us now,
and not a one of us would pass
the chance to celebrate this,
our circle of friendship, once more.

© Ginny Brannan  November 2019

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

November Begins

I step into the frosty night
a veiled half-moon my only light
to silhouettes of barren trees
and strong scent of decaying leaves
the silence almost deafening
as crickets sleep and wait for spring.

© Ginny Brannan 2019

Sunday, November 3, 2019

Sunday in the Valley

There are answers that require a leap of faith
guidelines of behavior about what we shouldn’t do,
but what of the answers that stare us in the face:
the resounding beauty of a landscape
that begs defiance despite the biblical timeline of this Earth?
This planet has brought forth life for eons
before man and our limited scope and understanding.
Science explains the evolution of the tangible:
how mountains grow and shrink again, how plates shift
and continents came to be, the ebb and flow of the tides,
how the light in the night sky is sent from stars
that existed hundreds of thousands of years ago.
It tells us that the world was not created in a day,
nor week, nor month nor decade, nor century.
Science explains in detail how the tiniest of “seeds”
can grow into a flower, a tree, or even a person in a sense,
or how a caterpillar can disappear into a cocoon
and reemerge as a butterfly.
But it cannot explain the complexity of emotions
felt when seeing our newborn child for the first time,
or when watching the unwavering determination
of someone defying the odds to reach beyond  their own endurance 
to heal, to achieve, to learn, to become more than they are.
Nor can it explain the tear that escapes 
when we see a something for which there are no words—
not because we don’t understand its existence,
but because it reminds us of our own insignificance
in the light of such grandeur.

If science explains tangibles then perhaps faith explains the intangibles,
perhaps miracles and science are not exclusive to one another,
perhaps both exist for a reason, and that is to explain the reason of our existence
      …and for me, that is enough.

© Ginny Brannan 2019

Image: Monument Valley, Colorado