I see the Balls on the Falls
often.
Sometimes gleaming and white
against clear blue skies,
or greyed-out
against winter sunsets
or maybe even brightly Iit-up
against dark night skies.

Sometimes
they’re away in the distance
as I drive down Black Mountain
while, other times,
they tower high above me
as I cycle right beside them
on my way to work.

They never fail to fill me with delight.

I was witness
to their slow, pain-staking construction.
I watched day by day
as workmen slowly began to close over
the only remaining opening
at the top of the larger ball.
Surely they hadn’t left enough room
to slip the smaller ball
inside the big one?

At the time, it seemed to be
a simply impossible task.

Today
I cycle right underneath
the Balls on the Falls
on my way home from work.
And I sense My God whisper to me
about some intentions
that I am praying specially for,
encouraging me
never to lose faith,
encouraging me
to believe in the Almighty,
encouraging me
to take heart
and encouraging me
to believe in the impossible,
no matter how unlikely
it may seem.

© Claire Murray, 2nd September 2015