Love can make a person crazy. One moment we can be flying high as a kite in bliss-filled folly, and the next, be stuck knee-deep in the fast forming muck of dolor. Mostly makes me wonder, is there ever an end? Even though I already suspect I know the answer, I’ve still never figured out how to live with the tragedies of love. I just continue to remain tangled up in all the delights and despairs, entertaining the knock of love whenever it happens to find me. Seems like I would’ve learned my lesson by now, but I guess that just shows the true value of love. It’s worth more than any cost we could ever bear. So we open our arms to it, time and time again, hoping that someday happiness will come along instead of dismay.
I stepped away, left the beaten path, and traversed my own way to find my way. It wasn’t easy, and I’m still not quite there, but the decision to take a different course has enabled me to leave behind everyone and everything that was steering me towards that dreadful rocky road, the one we all sometimes face. It was lucky for me that somehow in my heart, I knew I was going nowhere. I remember peril, urging me on from that tempting horizon, and it was so hard to say no. But now, after walking away from where troubled waters sloshed at my feet, I see peace, at last, urging me on, guiding me towards the finish line. Of course, now It’s up to me to regain my bearings and finally go after what I’ve been seeking all along. And if I can do all that, I might just have done all that I was meant to do.
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
Every day I realize More and more what I have It isn’t my belongings, dusty on shelves It isn’t the things I’ve accomplished Or even the things I’ve mastered But instead, It’s the people And the experiences The beauty of life itself These are the things that matter The things that are worth loving The things I want to fight for I hope I never lose sight Of the true treasures of life
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.
Here is my own recollection of the dream…
There was a tree, my favorite tree of all. It was actually a culmination of several different types of trees growing all together. I could still see and appreciate its beauty, even though it was slowly dying. There were numerous buds on the tree. Each tightly shut, preserving what was a potentially beautiful blossom on the inside. Every day, I stared at my tree, longing for it to blossom, waiting for it to bloom. But alas, the more I watched my tree, the more lifeless it became. And as much as I wished those tightly closed buds would bloom, they would not open. They were colorless and gave me a sense that all hope was lost. I became so lost in the sad state of the tree that I could see nothing but grey, even in my own life. The tree seemed to have four parts to it. Representing each season and some of the seasons were longer and some shorter. I wondered if in time, if the withered state of its branches would eventually blossom and bloom separately, or if they would all just remain as unfinished potential. It made me so incredibly sad not to know the future outcome of this amazing tree, one which I had always loved and still do.
Thinking of you today and I ask myself this… How can anyone be lonely when they have a million friends? But I suppose it’s more than that isn’t it? It’s the foundation the connectedness the secret loyalties among confidences. All these things matter in order to gauge the true value of a friend. And sadly without the right combination our state of loneliness is never very far away.