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/

The most valuable gift of all

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Time
each of us holds it from birth.
We’re all entrusted with the same daily allowance
but not all know its value
and some seem to forget its worth.

The foolish tend to use it up
leaving all those leftover seconds
to rot on silver platters
squandering hours away
on useless, selfish desires
believing they’ll always have more
never realizing there is a limit.

And yet the wise
and the perceptive
they protect time with their very lives
savoring every last crumb
knowing it is a measured blessing to be cherished.
They realize time is meant to be held in a way,
which embraces even the tiniest bits of joy.
And those who are discerning
understand the merit of its potential.
For time truly is the most valuable gift of all.

© 2019 Michelle Cook


Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/time-machine-old-school-watch-1450051/

 

Along the path to nowhere

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Drowning in the weald
Without a sword or shield
She was lost to the deep
Twilight had put her to sleep

But he somehow found her there
So full of sorrow and despair
And he gave her what he could
Although he was no Robin Hood

She applauded him for trying his best
This mission being his most important test
Yet both realized there had to be another way
Or they’d both be lost to the vast array

So a final plan was set into motion
Filled with dedication, love, and emotion
And determination eventually got them there
Saving them both from the path to nowhere

 

© 2018 Michelle Cook


Writing prompt: Consultant drowning deep within the shallow wood

Reasoning

mountains

The mind is very good
At creating illusions
Fanciful thoughts
Often become our delusions

We genuinely don’t know
And can never really say
If things might’ve turned out
For the better someway

The reality of every situation
Is that sacrifices come with a cost
And sometimes in the hype
We all get lost

Things often seem senseless
When they’re actually for good reason
So we shouldn’t underestimate
The importance of every season

I’m learning this these days
Realizing more as I go
Understanding the things
That I thought I’d never know

Growing and changing
It’s what we all do
And time is the only one
Who knows what we’ve been through

© 2018 Michelle Cook


For a full month of writing prompts, click here!  Senseless Sacrifices