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.

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.

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