Nothing Lost.

    Nothing Lost.

My breath vanishes into thick air as mist envelopes the forlorn landscape.

Winter weighs heavily on me as I take my morning walk.

My young grandson skips ahead, filled with the sheer joy of being alive,

His youth lending wonder and awe to ordinary things.

Suddenly my gaze is drawn to a small flash of white at my feet… snowdrops,

Tiny buds, peeping their delicate heads above the sodden earth.

Heralds of a new dawn, a new beginning, even for jaded eyes and weary limbs.

Enchanted, I bend to more closely engage with this delight.

“Have you lost something Papa”? my grandson inquires.

“No dear boy”I reply smiling, “I’ve found something”


Patrick Ganly, March 2014..

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