The one named “Longing”

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Mother’s Tree

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.

 

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/vectors/tree-drawing-abstract-conceptual-3363518/

This is love…

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As I sit here and ponder
There’s life all around
Though hardly any
Ever makes a sound

Grown up so handsome
Exquisite and tall
Each one is there
To watch over us all

If only these beauties
Could somehow speak
And give us the answers
We so desperately seek

However, a tree
Could never talk
It’s seen merely
As a perch for a hawk

And yet it really is
So much more
A lovely place
To go and explore

Its branches always
Spread so wide
A real haven
In which to hide

The perfect place
To lie under and exist
Its outstretched arms
So hard to resist

Each leafy canopy
Has seen it all
Leaves delicately spread
To cushion our fall

Can anyone imagine
A more perfect place to be
Other than inside the crook
Of an old oak tree

I can hardly think
Of any other
As it whispers softly
Like the voice of a mother

And I get lost
In the day
As every branch
Begins to sway

This is living
This is life
This is love…

© 2018 Michelle Cook