Willow’s Growth

I was looking through an old journal last night and found a treasure!

For several years now I have been writing about a character named Willow. In my stories she is portrayed as a tree, but the analogy is that of a young girl facing challenges in her daily life. It was so special to come across this entry again as I find myself in the same circumstances. Hope you enjoy!

“Willow had seen many seasons, and had for the most part eagerly embraced them. She hid under her branches and held tightly when the rain and floods came… and at last, the cold winter winds seemed to visit her less and less. Willow felt as if her whole being was beginning to thaw.

Beauty everywhere was in bloom and coming back to life. Yet somehow, Willow felt afraid. She almost wished that winter wouldn’t end. For in winter, all she need do was stand. She had stood and took the harsh winter cold, and waited patiently as her roots soaked up the rain. But now, willow felt fear. Now, it was time to grow again. She wasn’t sure how to grow taller and bear new and beautiful leaves. Willow did not know what would make her stronger and help her become all that she had hoped to be.

But as the warmth of the sun shone on her, a joyful thought came with it! The sun was shining warm and bright as it had before, but she had never felt it this way. The way it moved across her with the passing day, the way it hit her that day was like never before. Willow had grown. It was then that she realized that she had grown and would grow, for it was what she was made to do. And with her roots in the ground and her face towards the sun, she would continue on.”

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Among The Wildflowers

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I belong among the wildflowers…

With the sun on my back and the breeze blowing through my hair.

With the movement of every muscle,

And in every twitch and chain reaction, I rejoice, I’m alive!

Yes, with the flowers I bloom- in the hope of a fresh season,

And the anticipation of new colors.

Their beauty is simple and asks for no applause.

They stand unique but united in their purpose.

Lord how I want to be like the flowers before you…

Brave, beautiful, and full of life.

I belong among the wildflowers…

“Choose”

 

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Forever there will be new, exhilarating, fast.

But you’ve got me falling slow, easy, deep.

I love to pretend I could fly and touch the clouds that sit so proudly upon the wings of the sky.

Yet you let me down gently, softly, faithfully to solid ground-

Working your way into my dearest affections.

The taste of adventure and grand romance,

The feeling of safety and home,

If I had the choice which would I choose…?

LVS

Decided to try a little free verse this time! Actually this is what happens  when I read too much Anne of Green Gables… 😉

“Tread Softly”

Old thoughts, new appreciation. 🙂  It’s encouraging to come across raw emotions and truths such as these sometimes. Looking back on my journey, things that seemed so big at the time never left His hands. And my old thoughts might even be helpful again as I am always learning… Hope they encourage you too!

Laura Clayton 2016

Tread softly young woman, lest you tread on fragile hearts.

If those hearts are tread upon, precious dreams may also be torn apart.

Tread softly young woman, there’s much to be learned, yet there is no class,

Yes, please remember it’s as if you tread on glass.

The older you grow, many people you will meet,

But step carefully, lest you leave a trail of scarred bare feet.

It’s true, you may be their first love, and they yours,

But, choose for yourself a very straight course.

Always look Up and press in,

And remember if you fall there’s a new place to begin.

In the arms of the Father, all wrongs are made right,

For every broken heart, there’s a promise of new light.

Tread softly young woman, the weight of hearts is not yours to bear, \

But rather a privilege for you to share.

 

 

“Words”

Laura Clayton, January 2016

Oh words, let me bend you, and oh phrases let me mend you.

I long to make you say what I feel- It’s as if I’m trapped inside your meaning.

If I were to punctuate the sentences I penned you into, it wouldn’t satisfy.

Questions, exclamations, and long pauses would smudge together and end some lines of my life.

Oh words, let me tell you of the questions; reassure you of the worries in my pages.

I ache to know their answers, and escape my question marks.

If I were to tell you of all the questions, it would only tire you.

Questions could fill every page and end every sentence, but oh how they could not contain the depth of the story.

Oh words, let me delight you, oh lines let me invite you.

I long to tell you of the exclamations found in the careful arrangement and pattern of your words.

If I were to describe the value of the joy I have found in words, no sum could do it justice.

Many exclamations would be present, inked skillfully between thoughts, but each one would exist because of one Word.

Oh words, let me warn you of the pauses and breaks in my pages.

I hope to convince you of their purpose, for I fear you’ll only find them pointless.

If I were to go on about them, I think it still wouldn’t do, for you haven’t read them.

Long pauses lie in some of my greatest lines, pleading with me to rest and trust-only heaven knows what’s coming next.

Oh words, let me bend you, and oh phrases let me mend you.

I long to make you say what I feel- It’s as if I’m trapped inside your meaning…