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

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