Friday, February 26, 2021

Life in Metaphor

 

Along the road past open fields

and pale grey trees wrapped in snowy shawls,

we converse about the current

and reminisce of memories past.

Our voices rise and ebb—

caught up in the moment, 

comfortable in the silences

in time spent together.

Even now I am still amazed at how

we see things through the other’s eyes.

A dark line captures our attention.

You comment how it looks like a “black satin ribbon”

in stark contrast to the winter white.

We watch as it weaves to and fro, 

at once close to the road, 

then disappearing into the tree line

to reappear further down the lane.

We are captured by its tenacity:

that despite the odds to impede it,

to slow it down, to freeze it in place,

it still moves forward.

 

Life lessons on a winter’s day.


© Ginny Brannan 2021

 

Friday, February 12, 2021

Heartwood











I remember how you looked at me, eyes bright, dancing. Unseasoned, 

we navigated the newness of each other…likes, dislikes, discovering 

that our threads were more common than different. How fast 

the course when you are comfortable in your own skin, 

how fleeting the years when time matters not, just who you are with. 

  And just like that, forty years have passed.

Some say, “It’s a testament.” A testament to what? Longevity? Age? 

It is not hard being with you; it is a necessity, as necessary as breathing itself.  

We are akin to a tree, the seeds of which were planted in the first words 

we spoke to each other. Our roots grew from the smiles, the laughter; 

the common base of our ideals and shared beliefs.  We grew as one 

in strength through our love and convictions. Our limbs stretched 

to embrace our friends and family; who in turn have given their light to nourish 

us. And perhaps one day we will provide the pages for our son; and the seeds

for all who come after, the stories yet to be written.

 

You are my heartwood, my strength; the sap inside my veins;

and I, I am exactly where I’m meant to be.  

Time ceases to exist, everything else eclipsed

  till only love remains.


© Ginny Brannan 2021