Cherry Blossom Teardrops from Yesteryears

 

 

Renewal is our greatest victory.

 

            Every young child has a place of escape.  Some have hidden places  in outside; some have places inside their own mind and some like me or maybe just me found that place from the window of a third floor multifamily house  overcrowded, but full of growth and love.  I could tell I was different as I would find and expose levels of meaning in things I probably shouldn’t have been analyzing at such a young age.  But every morning I sat by that window watching the sky puzzle into a new day.  Birds would sing and wave at me and the clouds always had a way of showing me new shapes and visions I’ve never seen before.  And right in front of me was that old cherry tree with its branches dressed in an elegant white.  I knew soon it would expose its sometimes sour fruit.  That tree always symbolized a new beginning for me because things around me seemed to change every time that cherry tree dressed up in white.

            The last time I remembered it dressed up in renewal was the day my Nana moved to Springfield, MA.  I no longer had her making that morning breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage and grits.  I wasn’t a big fan of the grits but she always found a way to trick me into eating them.  It’s those small things you miss when someone you are use to is not there anymore.  For a young boy like me, my Nana was a superhero.  Her cape was her heart and her superpowers were her wisdom and presence she gave just by saying everything would be “okay”.  And I remember sitting by that window realizing things were going to change for us left behind.  My mother, uncles and aunts would be on their own and would be giving the chance to strut their independence.  Me and my little cousin Jerome would lose those arms that always embraced us and that lap that was always an escape from our little but loud tears.  I never understood why she left back then, but with a new and unexpected baby and the trials and tribulations of a marriage that soured, I came to realize she needed her own growth for once and she had to find a renewal to re-establish her strength as a woman.

            But I was selfish and wanted her to stay.  I wanted her all to myself because without her I didn’t think our family could stay unified in that same know she tied so tightly.  I already sensed it unraveling as my ears always rattled with fighting between my aunts who were still young enough to depend on the womb of a mother.  My mother wasn’t around as much because she needed that time to find that new beginning for her and a young child that was me.  Back then even I realized that every end yielded new opportunities.  The wind always blew things in the direction they are meant to travel.  And that same wind always massaged the branches of that tree filling the air with cherry blossom teardrops as a young life watched yesterday emerge into the formations of a new tomorrow.

 

When time cries, we learn to evolve.

 

 

 

© 2010

Tarringo T. Vaughan

Yesteryears

Gone

Time is like the grains of sand within an hourglass, for it can seep through our very fingers in the blink of an eye. In one moment, we could witness the majestic beauty of God in the image of a morning sunrise to greet us at the break of dawn. While in another moment we could witness the sun gradually setting upon our lives here on Earth. There are moments we experience which help us grow into adults that we should embrace close to our hearts may they be good or bad.

Moments which are taken for granted could blow away in the wind ending up being gone forever.

As we travel along the road of life our hearts yearn to share their beat with another, to be able to discover the gift of true love. Like a precious rose planted within the rich soil of Mother Earth, this gift requires the tending of a soul which will show it warmth, care, and protection. With the right heart to belong to, love can grow for eternity existing through the obstacle of death.

True love if taken for granted could wither away like the soft pedals of a rose ending up gone forever.

Born from the womb of woman, we are given life by our creator to cherish it as we experience it through time. We are given an unspecific amount of time to learn the lessons which life has to teach us that will help us grow and mature as we age. It is our choice to either take that time to listen to the wisdom given to us by our peers, learn from the mistakes which we may make during our journey, or should we choose to take that time for granted by expecting our journey to be paved with silver and gold, being given an opportunity without putting our effort into it. The greatest lesson that life teaches us is in order for us to succeed, we must first have to learn to fail, for if we endure failure, we then will learn what we have to do to improve within ourselves.

The gift of life if taken for granted could be taken by the hands of death in a moment’s chance ending up being gone forever.

Written by: Jason Anderson

The Silent Ones
The silent ones
Like the leaves which fall from dead trees drifting along the wind, they are but silent whispers hidden among a vast sea of loud voices yearning for their pleas of escape from a life of sorrow to be heard from those who they go to for life lessons before it becomes too late.
The silent ones
Are looked upon by those who torment them as the weak and small, who does not belong in a world where the colossal and strong dominate putting them in line by belittling them with the act of verbal abuse degrading them with names that rip at their confidence and self-esteem.
The silent ones
Will endure such pain in their lives not only at their facilities of education, but suffer the same at the place they call home which should be a place of safety and protection from those who supposed to support them with love that is unconditional, but a nightmare exists within their reality at this time.
The silent ones
Some may survive through all of these acts of violence widely known as bullying, and go onto live extraordinary lives of wealth in success regaining their confidence which once was diminished by their abusers. Tragically, there are those whose hearts takes too much that it feels that the only choice to end all the pain is to commit the act of suicide taking away their own lives.
Such simple yet heartbreaking accidents can be avoided only if we choose to open our ears, minds, hearts, arms, and souls to those who are afraid to speak out against their bullies. These innocent and vulnerable victims of such horrific acts of abuse are within a group simply known as the silent ones.
Written by: Jason Anderson

The Innocent Prays

Seeking refuge from the storm of sorrow which rages within the place he calls home, a young boy at the tender age of five years old finds comfort underneath the warm shelter of his bed covers. With tears of sadness flowing down his little face, he clutches his only friend in the form of a stuffed bear of chocolate brown tightly to his beating heart. Closing his precious eyes, the child asks for his father who lives in the great sky above to gift him with wings that will allow him to fly away from this place where the ones he calls mommy and daddy constantly fights with one another, blaming him for all the problems they are having in their marriage. Taking a gentle breath, he curls up into a ball with his beloved teddy, and quietly falls asleep.

For now, the innocent prays.

The tender eyes of ocean blue belonging to a teen angel is overshadowed by fear as she becomes the victim of sexual abuse from the hands of the very man she calls father. Unable to escape, she is pinned underneath her captor, as his rough callous hands roam along her fragile frame. Begging for him to stop, she sheds tears of pain, only to be silenced with a sinister voice whispering into her ear. Threatening to bring harm to the devoted woman she calls mother who is asleep in the room down the hall, this monster breathes heavily on the neck of his prey. To not bring any harm to her mother, the girl regretfully allows this sadistic beast to continue performing his darkest desires. Deep within her soul, she silently asks for her savior from up above to gift her with the courage to speak against the devil she calls father.

For now, the innocent prays.

Living on the streets with no shelter, nor place to call a home, I see the eyes of those who others may call “beggars” or “bums” yearning to be noticed in this world. Dressed in ragged worn out clothes, they roam the sidewalks looking for just a bite to eat, loose change, a place to sleep under for the night instead of cold hard pavement, or just to share a conversation with a stranger. A light of hope shines upon the homeless, as some will lend them a helping hand, yet others will just scoff at them as they strut in their fancy clothes, driving their luxurious automobiles, and show off the advantages they believe comes with being financially wealthy. One voice is shared among them, as they sing to their creator in Heaven to bring them home to the vast blue sky, where they can find a place to finally belong.

For now, the innocent prays.

Written by: Jason Anderson

Choose

Death is a specter that’s always hovering

WE worry about it so much that often we forget to live

Time spins fast and we wonder where it went

Poof it’s gone, and we haven’t accomplished what we set out to do

THat loss should emphasize to us that we need to live

Worrying doesn’t change a thing, and in the long run things work out

Why not open ourselves to experience life and love

That’s really the measure of a person if they were loved  or if they did some good

Friendships and bonds formed, cherishing family, a sense of belonging

The chance to share a story, a smile, the gift of sharing time with someone

To truly be ourselves and just live joyfully

To stop and smell the roses, plant a garden, enrich a child’s mind

Nurturing and caring for something gives us a sense of hope and optimism

Visualize your life as a glass that is overflowing

Material things don’t matter, and are not a measure of success

To see someone light up when you walk into the room, you are successful

DEath will come when it is due but for now, seek and live 

Revelation of half a cat

 

You want to marry me

I want to marry you

 

My love spilling over like a fountain

Your love calm as a lake

My affection for you warm like a chocolate brownie

Your affection for me cool like lemon sorbet

My arms flying around you each time we meet

Your arms limp, by your side

You are just not that kind of guy, you tell me

My heart racing in anticipation

Your heart a steady rhythm

Always in control, you let me know

My soul jumping for joy

Your soul is doing something, too, I guess

I am in seventh heaven

You are in space

I feel like singing

You feel like some quiet time

I feel like dancing

You feel like resting

I go for a walk. There it is, outside the drive through window of the dry cleaners. A little black bundle crouched on the pavement, she lifts her head, meowing. I stop to look and jump back in surprise. Her backside is missing, I don’t even see her hind legs. She is only half a cat - curiously enough she is still alive. A young girl with long black hair steps out of the store, she tells me the cat jumped out of the bushes and now there she is, meowing, in pain, unable to move. The back is a brown dried up mass of her insides. The Vietnamese man from the nail salon joins us, he tells the dry cleaners girl to call Animal Control. There we are, the three of us staring at the half a cat, sharing our thoughts on what might have happened. This is not a fresh injury. After getting hurt she probably hid in the bushes and licked her wounds instinctively hoping to recover. But it never happened, there is no hope, though the wounds are all crusted over, she can’t go on living like that. She is only half a cat. She’s losing strength, she can hardly lift her head anymore. The meowing has stopped.

You want to marry me

I don’t want to marry you