Perspicacity

Chasing daylight home, the sun paints

the underside of the clouds 

in shades of lavender, pink and gold. 

And I ponder, as I often do

if you see the same things, too?

There are mountains between us,

chasms that divide us,

bridges that are not yet built,

I don't believe we've spoken.

But sometimes lives run parallel

different people, different names

different junctures, but the same…

we recognize each other’s scars,

the ways that we are broken.

The sun slips slowly past my sight

while twilight falls in shades of gray,

the shadows blend, becoming one,

the night-winged creatures take to flight...

I listen as the winds converge

whispering their reprimands,

reminding me of who we are.

The world does not bend to our will

all we have is speculation

   and fairy tales that we invent,

as we search for revelation

between the words and their intent.

© Ginny Brannan 2021