(an album for this post)


ultimately, I know that when it’s hard soon come, it’ll be easier. the tides won’t be so high and they’ll surface onto the seabed, blending into one another eventually washing away.

and, with honesty comes vulnerability, and I’m still learning how to plant those seeds. I’ve been sitting in the garden with my brown gloves on, restlessly digging up dirt from compost heaps, trying to figure out how to plant seeds and let them grow; to be okay with them growing and faltering, but also learning to not be disappointed when they don’t sprout because not every flower grows in winter and not ever plant blossoms in spring. if anything, it’s learning that nature takes care of itself, and in learning from nature, taking from its book, I must learn that from dust I was made, and to dust, I’ll return.

and God, it’s so morbid but, it’s Truth and you can’t hide from Truth. it’s embedded within us, despite our denial and defiance of it. Truth cloaks me and nestles with me when the sun is shining and when the rain pours – it’s never changing, yet ever-changing. at times, sitting in the comfort of the rain and dwelling in the cold with nature surrounding can be tranquil; there’s no need for worry or stress, despite being drenched knowing staying there will do you good – child, you’ll get sick.  and, despite its fellow feeling, it’s odd comfort, I must learn that seeds can be planted, nurtured, fed and loved, with consistency whilst giving them a home to abide in. emotions aren’t bad, it’s how they’re approached, and how I let them sit that determines how I move forward.

because, without emotions, without love, they will falter and I must learn that even if I feel like my leaves are changing colour – winter is coming. I can bloom in winter, just as much as in autumn. I can rest in Truth, and I can also make my home. it’s okay to grow, even if it’s tiring but, I will grow despite how painful the pruning is, how heavy the rain is, and how much the sun burns. I will make a home in Truth and I will let my seeds grow in their own time – there’s no rush.

2 thoughts on “ yellow trees ”

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