There she was, umbrella in hand, floating down towards the edge of a gentle stream. At times she’d been like a whirling dervish, full of boundless energy and chaotic vigor. And yet, at the same time, there were other occasions where the current would carry her over long, tranquil airstreams.
She’d glide along over the endless fields, absorbing the grandeur of the picturesque valleys, which all looked more like patchwork quilts than anything else. Then suddenly, she’d hit an air pocket and be frolicking away again, like a frenzied feather on an urgent mission.
Once touching down, she gasped, as crisp waters from a melodious little brook jarred her breezy state of mind. Now, wide awake, she looked down at the icy waters lapping at her bare feet and wondered how she’d come to find herself in such a fantastic place.
*This brief reflection is based on a dream I had last year. It was the kind of dream that one never wants to wake from. The kind that leaves your heart soaring and your mind enraptured by a carefree spirit. I smile every time I think back on that lovely dream. I just wanted to explore further and see where all those hills and valleys would take me. To get lost in a dream is often such an awe-inspiring experience. I can only hope this year will be filled with more visions like this.
I’m the girl who collected music boxes. Each one was delicately carved and crafted as if they were made just for me. I remember losing myself in each heart soaring note while the fragile little figures twisted and twirled, delicately dancing to the sighs of my youth. Watching those tiny dancers was one of the only ways I could pass the time while locked away inside my dingy little room. I remember the thin, mustard-yellow bedspread and the thread-bare golden colored carpet. The uninspiring small room couldn’t have been more unappealing, and my imagination was my only saving grace. There was always a book resting on my knee and a flashlight hidden beneath my pillow. Those two items were critical to my overall health and well-being. Although to be found reading at bedtime often meant facing a fate worse than death, but I still took my chances because reading was my only escape.
The window above my bed was out of reach, too high to see anything except the smog-filled sky, and that dreary view seemed to envelop everything, even me. There were many occasions when I was ordered to stay confined to my bed, so I would perch on the edge of my pillow, setting the gauge on the quarter-sized timer that I’d bought for ten cents at the swap meet. The dial was hard to turn and always hurt my hand whenever I tried. But somehow, the ticking noise that abruptly followed after spinning the dial made it all worth it. My spirit was somehow calmed and comforted by the tic, tic, tic. The tiny treasure gave me hope that one day I wouldn’t be forgotten, and I thought perhaps someone would come and rescue me before the buzzer sounded. Sadly, most days, I was just shushed back into silence once the dial made its final round. I always wished the familiar chime would mean certain freedom, but that was just another lie I kept choosing to believe.
Turn this page over See what’s behind In-between the creases I cannot hide You’ll see my reality The truth that I face The depth of my desires I dare not taste Each sweeter than honey These visions I explore Yet locked in silence Behind forbidden’s door
I keep trying to forget the past. To leave all the hurts buried deep on that old, empty road. The place where I was deserted, left choking on remorse. But everybody wants answers, and nobody understands that I can’t breathe. And when I’m forced back on that road, I can’t heal or even catch my breath. The air over there is stifling. And so many broken dreams are still dangling in the wind. I can’t keep reaching out, grasping hopelessly at those lifeless strands. So please, I’m begging you, let’s just leave the past to live where it died. Or else this life won’t be worth living at all.
About to embark On a journey A new way of life I think this beginning Is just what I need I have nothing left here Nothing holding me back So I will chase my dreams The sky is the limit Look out world Here I come!
I think it kinda looks like your heart The branches being the fruits of your labor Such a long time it has been But they’re finally budding The roots are of all the things you have touched So many lives have felt them The black and white colors you wish were full of pinks Yet you know that can never be so Four seasons of seven branches 14 black 14 gray The longer black branches of the past Many memories of your childhood Many darker memories Gray The fruits of your labor Finally budding Some being in the works longer than the other Soon you will see the fruits Buds like hands Reaching out Reaching out into the world Though darker thoughts tend to over shadow them Just give them plenty of light They’ll bloom in time Two black Two grays Long blackened winter Short gray spring On the right lies fall and summer The trunk to connect it all Both dreams, hearts So many thoughts Yet why must such a heart be gray and black? Grown and weary It’s hard to see the rainbow of your childlike self It’s still there though It’s always been there Trying so hard to see color Eyes full of black and gray nights You stare at those by your side God And another one Close to your heart Is it Daddy? Or is it something even deeper Deep in the depths of your mind A lost thought? Someone always there by the tree Holy spirit? Jesus? Ocean waves Staring back at quiet waters I see you now You’re the one named “Longing”
By Brianna Lynn Cook (Written June 6, 2017)
I once had a dream and in that dream there was a tree. The tree in my dream left such an impact on me that I decided to draw what I had seen. This is my daughter’s interpretation of the tree from my dream. Remarkably, her words were spot on and every time I read this, I get goosebumps. My daughter has this amazing gift of seeing what others cannot. And even though this interpretation means nothing to anyone else, it means the world to me that she could see it. Only a young girl with the sweetest disposition and the purest of hearts could have such knowledge. I am blessed to call her my daughter.