Life Poem

Live ev'ry moment of each dawning day
And give to the Lord your life without pay
Live to the fullest, but be down to earth
And remember those whom've loved you since birth

Help Save the John L. Johnson Auditorium

Power
      It's a stranger
But a Mother all the same
If ever I could feel it
Touch it
Taste it

I would.


But loss
Loss is power 
A power
A power all on its own
Something stronger than anything I've ever known

I don't know.

I don't know what to do.

With power I am strong.

With loss...I am wrong.

The stage is where I feel power
Where I feel loss

It is where I know my heart is beating
Every hour
Every minute
Every day


Hours upon hours I have poured
I have sweated
I have cried into that theatre
Into my home

And I won't give up.

It is threatened by power
It is threatened by loss

They plague its scaffolding
They scratch away at its doors

The ones who teach
They take away
And the ones who learn
Lose many days

For my home is threatened by restructure
By reconstruction

It may not seem much to an audience of those who have never seen

But to those whom have seen everything happen within
Those whom have made those happenings happen

It is everything.

It is a lesson...

It is power unfeeling and power renewed:

It is loss taken and then given.

It is every emotion rolled into one

It is every lesson taught


The theatre we lose
That home is more than a building
It is our teacher

Our friend.

Our parent.

Please, help save the John L. Johnson Auditorium in Napoleon, Ohio.

Follow Maumee Valley Civic Theatre on Facebook and donate to save the place that taught so many who they are and who they can someday become.

If Ever (Poem)


This poem was written for Memorial Day to honor our brave men and women who contributed the most selfless sacrifice of all.
If ever life could be more true;
Give more valor, love, and faith…
If ever life could be more gleeful;
Take joy from the strongest hate…
If ever life could be more worthwhile;
Prolong passion, courage, and lives…

Then the wars may end.

Life is worth living:
Life, however, is not worth the cost of giving;
But those who dedicate their life
They receive something more:
They receive treasures unknown to the frightened
To the fearful.
They take challenges issued to only the chosen
Those which are given proudly to the brave.

Their choices determine the freedom of others—
Their choices create possibilities
Numerous as the stars.

If ever the world desires their fight,
If ever the world desires their arms…

They provide.

They will stand as guardians of freedom.

The world—it’s a strong place,
But even stronger,
It is with these:
Those men and women who ride into the night.
Those men and women who survive the firing…
The fear…
The loneliness…
The separation…
The curtain of death…

But then again, some do not
 
And these
These fallen are the most treasured of them all.
The world may someday pass,
And the sun may set;
The moon may dry and float away like dust
Because the veterans who gave their lives
Lost to a war.
And we did not listen to their ghosts.

Yet, still there is a chance

For you all are sitting here
Remembering.
Cherishing.
Trusting.
Praising.

Their lives have passed and their sun has set:
Their everlasting night has dawned.
But with a full, and guiding moon.
Those veterans who gave their lives
Gave their all to us.
So giving back to them…
That…
That is what we must do.

Pass strangers with trust.
Avoid hate, change lives.
For the better.
Heal.
Don’t hurt…
And let war, which will end the world,
Rest beside the brave who died within its darkness

Let these teachers lying around us
Let them all know that their lives were taken
But their lessons
Their lessons were not
We will remember their teachings
We will remember them.

And then
And only then
Can life be more true
Can life be more gleeful
Can life be more worthwhile

Can veterans’ lives not be a heedless sacrifice.

A Child's Liberty


The indescribable eyes of a young child look into one’s soul, and the first feeling any rational heart should recognize is love—pure, unrestricting, captivating love.  Humans discover that gazing into a child’s enlightened eyes is like staring into the universe’s heart and discovering that, maybe, it is not completely sculpted from darkness, but, rather, that the darkness is molded by the absence of starlight. Subsequently, there stands a 100 percent chance that those curious eyes are those of a young one that will carve our future. Their fingertips will brandish the clay that forms the destiny of the human race. Upholding their right to unbound freedom, we must ensure that their lives do not involve the task of remolding the frame we have already set for them. As access to education is sickeningly denied to children, and hundreds of young ones are exploited or abused every day, the children of the world should be encouraged to strengthen their liberty of learning and their entitlement to childhood innocence with the help of all adults, especially parents and teachers.

Accordingly, as a unified species of intellectual capacity, it is our inherent right to unearth the beauties of the world around us; however, a number of children are denied this right, especially in foreign lands. As indicated by Susan Aud and her fellow authors, America boasts a 90 percent rate for adults ages 25 through 29 to have a high school diploma, and 33 percent have a bachelor’s degree or higher by this point in their life (1-2). Therefore, in America—a country so known for its indescribable liberty and freedom—there is nearly ten percent of a fairly recent age group whom do not even possess their high school diploma. Encouraging children to be free, adults must reassure them to engage in learning as modern grown-ups evidently did not have the dedication or ability to do so. In a Malaysian study on 26 working children, 20 did not even realize their right to a proper education and 16 longed for schooling (Rahimah Abdul Aziz 1). If a child does not know of his or her rights to education—to learning about the entrancing, free world around them—how does anyone expect this world to enrich itself? Ten did not desire school because they had most likely never been taught what an education’s value is. Being free and enlightened unto liberty means partaking of the opportunity to indulge in both sides of an argument because you know both sides; consequently, youngsters cannot control this freedom because they are not given the opportunity to obtain schooling. A child being denied access to school illustrates just how much freedom is removed from his or her life.

Additionally, abusing and exploiting children because of their lack of education is common in many third world countries. Christina Thurston alleges that other counties horrifyingly subject their children to the workforce because they appear easy to abuse, manipulate, or exploit in their young, presumable helplessness (54). Because of their small stature, a child’s strength is minuscule and that makes their minds, as well as bodies, an easy target. By educating even a tiny increment more of the population every year, perhaps a child can genuinely learn to defend him or herself and develop a faultless future. Encouraging a child to manage high self-image, strong communication skills, and positive morals allows a child to be unburdened from fear as well as discrimination (Thurston 57). Each of these traits sustains a young one’s self-confidence. Being free permits them to delegate themselves and allows them to discover pieces of life that they might never have known because they were restricted by society’s pressures and frustrating psychological chains. Supporting children in everything they do, adults will help kids develop a halo of freedom they can cherish their whole lives. The entire world oppressing young ones validates the idea that children should attain their long-awaited freedom.

Furthermore, people believe that children need strict rules and regulations. Children, conversely, are innocent and uncorrupt until they are bantered by reason and the stress of the world: Our youngest ones are inherently good. Echoing the victories of our history, their necessary freedom reflects those trespasses of the African Americans, the Israelites from Egypt, and humans from sins. They do not need more discipline; they need chances to discover and learn and love and be just plain children again. Indulging in their freedoms as much as humanly possible under this pressurized society, young ones are forced to accept what little freedoms they have and be content…they must sit while the fumes of poisonous restrictions churn around them. They do not know they are restricted. They do not know they are bound. They do not realize how much of life is taken from their tiny palms in order to sustain our reins of control and order. In this daunting universe we live within, these acts of constraint flood society, but they are corrupt, for they limit human existence’s expression of life and of learning.

Thus, children are strong and they are courageous; we are the ones who are so weak that we feast on their insecurities to make ourselves feel powerful. When envisioning the future, the human race should glimpse equal opportunity and glowing understanding of all generations that transcends time. Encouragement from adults for children to establish their own creativity and ideas of “perfection”, as well as the forming of organizations and laws (like the “No Child Left Behind Act of 2001”) to encourage children and protect them from abuse should be enacted (Aud 1 and Randolph 6). Brilliantly, these effects start one adult at a time…change how a parent views their child and their view will slowly influence the world. Hence, in “What Can Parents Do to Help?”, studies indicate that students 15 years of age today showcase higher test scores when it is proven that their parents read to them as children (1). If schools could enact parent’s meetings bi-annually starting in a child’s first year of schooling that provide ideas for aiding the kid’s education and require a pledge to proper parenthood, a parent’s heart and ideas of parenthood will be upgraded. Because these meetings are infrequent, many adults will have the necessary time to attend each of these. Influencing one area, one parent, and–therefore—one child at a time, the world will begin to glow with the incomprehensible light of true understanding. Earth itself will become a beautiful, knowledgeable, and truly “free” place for everyone, big or small. Liberty will finally reach our truly littlest minority.

 

 

  
Works Cited:

Aud, Susan, and et al. “The Condition of Education 2013.” National Center for Education Statistics (2013): 1-3. EBSCOhost.Web. 3 Dec. 2013.

Randolph, Kelli; Wilson-Younger, Dylinda. “Is No Child Left Behind Effective for All Students? Parents Don’t Think So.” Online Submission (2012): 6. EBSCOhost.Web. 4 Dec. 2013.

Thurston, Christina. “Child Abuse: Recognition of Causes and Types of Abuse.” Practice Nurse 31.10 (2006): 51-57. EBSCOhost.Web. 4 Dec. 2013.

Aziz, Rahimah Abdul; and Iskandar, Suriati “Working Children and Knowledge of Right to Education: A Study of ChildLabour in Sabah, Malaysia.” Asian Social Science  9.8 (2012): 1, 31. EBSCOhost.Web. 5 Dec. 2013.

N.a. “What Can Parents Do to Help Their Children Succeed in School?” OECD Publishing  (2011): 1. EBSCOhost.Web. 5 Dec. 2013.




Grown In A Blink


For anyone afraid of growing up, know that you are loved, that you are cherished, and that you will be okay.


Shooing away subconscious thought, peace clouded the darkness of my mind. Black silk wavered as morning broke through the silence of dreams. My eyelashes fluttered, and I buried my vision deep into the rising sun outside my…room? Only, the room constructed before me was not the one I saw as my eyes shut last night; it was more organized than the childish one I had fallen asleep in. As my eyesight swept across the furniture, I recognized pieces belonging to my parents. The oak armoire passed down since my great grandparents first weeks in America rested across the room. The caramel wood stain was kept neat by my father, but I noticed a few pale scratches that begged repair.

I lifted the champagne comforter that buried my body and swung my legs off the side of the king bed; this movement seemed heavier than I remembered. I glanced down at my legs. All of my baby fat is gone…I actually have muscle on these things….
I must have exercised in my sleep.
A lot.

I shook my head to clear away the lasting fog of dreams, and I gently placed my feet on the cold hardwood floor. Goosebumps slithered their way up my pale arms. Something similar to a breeze brushed through my mind and whispered that the scene before me wasn’t right with the common order of life. My straight chestnut hair brushed across my face like an evening shadow as I gathered myself and shuffled to the mirror resting upon the wall; the steps to the gilded mirror were a blur of mindlessness.

I gathered my thoughts before the reflection in front of me. Two hands swept the strands that had fallen across my face behind two pierced ears; chocolate brown eyes looked back into mine, fringed with brown eyelashes. Those features I recognized; however, the cheekbones in the mirror were more refined than mine, and I don’t remember lips with such a hard, worried line, either. It’s as if the skin over my face was stretched with an infinitesimal pressure and then given a young adult’s glow as I slept. The face in the mirror had grown overnight. Fear gathering in the shining midst of the mirror’s eyes, I blinked, eyelashes dancing up and down, as my brain swirled to the conclusion my heart avoided. I licked my lips, and the world became unfamiliar and haunting like fog in a graveyard a million miles away.

I stumbled to the door and grasped the cold metal, turning the brass knob, clinging to it for support. My heart was pounding like an ambulance siren. In the hallway, my feet slid upon the forest green carpet, and my hands scratched along the wood-paneled wall until I reached the stairs.

“MOM! DAD! Anyone home?” my lips moved without a moment’s hesitation as I raced through the doors of our house. I found myself drowning in a state of panic, looking…searching, but finding not a single trace of my parents. I ended in the garage, crumbled up on the cold cement floor, staring with a bitter hatred at the old Ford truck Dad had bought me for my sixteenth birthday for no other car resided here. My toenails ground into the gray floor and my feet welcomed the chill that raced through my body: It was better than the sadness. I loved that truck…but I loved my father more, and I wanted him back. I felt my eyes gather tears, emotions crowding their way through my mind. In this state, I curled myself tighter together and buried my head in my knees.

I was an adult, and the only consolation I had was the fact that God was guiding me. My body shivered, sobs tearing through it. As the chill of the morning froze my soul and darkened my spirits, I lifted myself up and an idea sparked a fire inside me. I must have mom and dad’s number in my cell.

The kitchen table was just as I remembered it; the only change was the center piece that always held Queen Anne’s lace, Mom’s favorite flower. Now, pink roses, my favorite, filled the crystal cylinder. Behind the velvet petals sat my purse. I snatched it and felt a layer of my heart calm because I knew that their numbers would be in here. Flipping open my phone, I found I had two missed callers; both left messages. I dialed the voicemail and listened as my heart skipped a loving, cherished, unmistakable beat.

Mom’s sweet voice came first, “First of all, Dad says that if your truck needs fixing you come find us right away because he knows no one else in this town can fix it. Second, I love you and you are going to be an amazing young woman out there on your own. And last, we will always be here for you. Never forget that. If you lose your way, just pray and God will provide.” The tone went, and then I waited for the next message to play.

Dad spoke, “I don’t think your mom said, so I’m gonna say it: Do not let anyone but me touch your truck. By the way, before we left last night, mom switched the flowers on the table but you probably went to bed before you noticed. Anyway, I guess that means you grew up, darlin’. I’m not going to bother you, but if I see any men leaving that house past one in the morning, I am not going to be a happy camper. Call us tomorrow…night, sweetheart.”

The quiet sobbing I heard must have been me. I was an adult, but my parents loved me: I was alone, but always watched over. Clasping my phone close to my heart, I sank into one of the cushioned chairs and buried my head in relief. Peace washed over me, and fog covered my thoughts like black silk.

 

A midnight sea filled my mind while peace contorted my dreams into memories. Awakening from a dream I couldn’t quite remember, I blinked into the sunlight of a new day. My bed lay beneath me, and I knew that it comforted me like the love of my parents does.

I was left only with a memory of love.

The POWER of Artful Indulgence

The sun of creativity has sunk below the horizon of our minds. The world, which once flourished in the ideas of the inspired, now sits idle in a preoccupied, bland desert. If this diminishing of creative mindfulness continues, this advance-determined world will regress into nothingness and monotonous living. The world will become a place of parched lips, begging for life…for creativity…for the magical, welcoming arms of appreciation. Children are forced to repress their ideals, yet they must also be individualistic: Their lives are paradoxes of creative concepts. Ideas of creative mindfulness have worn away as this race advances: The appreciation humans once held for the individual’s true value has been masked by the ferocious idea that individuals must be perfect, mindless machines, excelling in only the ideas deemed necessary by society.
Therefore, appreciation is the most important value a human can learn to indulge themselves in. In a society where so much is presented before us, why not have something of our own to create? Why not be able to look to the past and say: “That was amazing…but I know I can create something of my own that is even better—that others can appreciate.” Similarly, the great Enlightenment minds looked to the past; however, they found a place for cultivation and advancement in its corridors and did not simply leave the past stagnant. Through classical antiquity, those ingenious thinkers thought that one should not only examine their environment but also their inner thoughts and desires. They critiqued the ideas that make them unique. Only a few years before, the Renaissance filtered these ideas into a revolution of art. They learned to not only see but also toappreciate the arts that one sculpted. Individualism spurred from the Humanist movement, and the reality of one’s life on earth approved of the notion that each person has a responsibility to make his or her life count. For example, Leonardo Da Vinci—known as the perfect, well-rounded Renaissance man—had a curiosity and work ethic that led him to become the greatest mind of his time and the modern era. It should not be said that these characteristics led him to become a great mind. It was, on the other hand, his appreciation of his capabilities leading him to enlightenment. In a world with overwhelming culture, on the contrary, it is impossible for a modern Renaissance Man to manifest. It is impossible for children to appreciate the value of their education and creativity because it is forced upon them and crammed into the limited time they have. There is the chance to unlock at least a small portion of the mountainous knowledge of life, and there is most definitely the chance to appreciate the life and knowledge humans have access to today. If the expanse of the human mind can learn to appreciate its abilities then, and only then, may this race begin to see the advancement of a once celebrated conscience.
With the gentle extolment of the perfect human machine, it has manifested that children are becoming less and less individualistic, creative beings, and, therefore, floating away from the beauties of life. According to P.M. Forni (as a loose definition) creativity can mean the ability to make better something that already exists. In the past, it was the youth who changed the fabric of American dreams, and accordingly, the powerful ideas of the Hippie Era inspired a counter-culture of change. They knew what they desired of knowledge; they knew what they required of freedom; they knew what they pursued in creativity. Every revolution they held had a purpose, whether beneficial or wrong in its pursuit. Jim Morrison once stated, “There can’t be any large-scale revolution until there’s a personal revolution, on an individual level. It’s got to happen inside first” (Strutzin). His insightful response to an age of reflection was perhaps one of the most critical of his time: change must happen inside the hearts and desires of a group long before anything truly worth appreciating can occur. Abbie Hoffman, the hippie founder of the Youth International Party, declared, “The first duty of a revolutionary is to get away with it,” and, in truth, convincing the human race that creativity and change is important is one of the most important duties of a revolutionary (Strutzin).  In order to change distasteful social aspects, Americans have access to free speech, as stated in the first amendment: Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof, or abridging the freedom of speech (Constitution of the United States of America). Because of this right, everyone can learn to change not only the perception of the world, but also personal views of why creativity and appreciation is dire to a life well-lived.
Moreover, the desire to be common and accepted is becoming the status of the human individual in place of the unique creativity possessed. Everyone pretends to vie for the idea that each person is “special”. In a world where there is no time to appreciate the “specialness” of each person, there is no possibility that each person may become “special”. Previous to this thought, S.A. Maslow crafted a pyramid of how the human conscience crafts its ability to learn. Resting at the top—after every basic need has been met—humans are able to unleash their store of creativity. First, the human mind must surpass living necessities, safety requirements, love desires, self-esteem checks, and then—and only then—can the human conscience construct the ability to create and appreciate (McLead). The freedom entitled to American citizens is one that allows them to unleash their creativity because one’s basic needs are usually met; however, becoming dramatically focused on self-esteem and acceptance in the American society, Americans have become uncultured in the top, most important rung of the ladder. We no longer deem it necessary that life be cultured and refined in the creative arts. This past week, for example, a school’s education board forced their AP students to take the regulated test: In the past, this had been the choice of our students, but now, it was only in the decision of the adults’ hands. The students unwillingly took the test, sacrificing their free creative time in order to become “perfect” machines of society. Like this test, there are too many distractions in the world today to become the flawless mechanisms of society. Our teachers admire creativity—they desire it more than the students can give, perhaps. Creativity requires time, which is something most children cannot sacrifice because they are too focused on being common, beautiful, educated minions of a persistent system. This oppression of the fashionable way has become so critical that even the patterns of our speech are attracted to the first light of creativity. Like bees to flowers, humans attach to the slightest taste and steal it…pretend it is our own…but sadly, we do not make this word or phrase our own. In the end, equilibrium in speech materializes, and the earth in its entirety is suppressed to a basic level of consistent language. Therefore, the commonalities humans express in everyday life suppress the capabilities of creativity and appreciation.
Mindfulness, on the other hand, is truly a healing stream to our parched, uniquely creative desert. According to P.M. Forni, humans “flatten mercilessly what in reality is a lengthy and complex process,” which shows humanoid need to be effortless, quick animals. On the contrary, keeping an open mind with all its complexity will add dimension: The ability to see depth, light, contrast, interpretation. “Our brain is roughly…two times the size of pre-human hominids” and in evolution, the trend has been that the brain size is proportional to body mass to an extent (McAuliffe). It has also been made known that, within the last 20,000 years, the male brain’s volume has lost a section nearly a tennis ball’s size. It has also been noted that when cultures and towns arise, the human brain size becomes smaller, and this decrease is logical because humans can rely on each other to survive. The critical thinking skills of an independent species dissolve as dependent populations arise: “It’s perfectly plausible our modern brain is smarter in some ways, dumber in others, and more docile overall”(McAuliffe).  And with these decreases, the question pops up that perhaps our children will not be able to care for themselves. If ever technology were to suddenly stop, would humans have the creativity and problem solving skills to save themselves without devastating massacres? There is such a great expanse of logic, and there is even more possibility with the acceptance of each individual’s creative perspective. Gary A. Davis stated, “Because most ideas evolve through a series of modifications, approximations, and improvements, creators must cope with uncertainty”(Forni). He is right: There is always more logic and always possibility. If creativity and mindfulness are not perceived analytically, the answer is most certainly a lightning bolt of negativity. Keeping an open and practiced mind will therefore prevent both a lack of creativity and a digressiveness of human life        .
Most definitely, the imperative development of life is artful indulgence, and that the creativity of each individual should not be oppressed: Life is worth living and experiencing each and every second of one’s unfathomable existence. Within schools—the brain of the educational body—there is the disregard of creativity expressions. A school often chooses sports and education long before the consideration of the arts is considered. Theatre’s are torn down in place of gyms. Art classes are crammed in tiny corners. Creative outlets are crushed into infinitesimal whispers. From 2009 to 2010, elementary schools dropped from 87 percent with visual arts classes to 83 percent…and in drama, there was a 16 percent drop—from 20 to 4 percent (Armario). As a child, the modern teenage generation was taught to be innovative--creative. They were taught to indulge in art through Legos and video games and reading. Within society’s childhood activities today, the plans are constructed in advance. Legos are pre-made, asking one to make only the picture on the box. Most video games are corrupted with painful violence and strict plans, no room for deterrence. Reading has as many options as ever, but with all of the possible technological distractions, why waste time being caught up in a favorite story--for there are much more important, required things in life. Writing, in itself, has even become a monotonous devouring of the public’s ideas. Everything, it seems, has been done before; however, there are more stories to catch in our words. The world should not be limited to love stories about star-crossed struggles. There is magic in the ability for each of us to create. Magic is the dream of every child…or at least, it once was in the creative world. It is the ability to create the abstract and to heal. It is the ability to open up our hearts to artful indulgence.











Works Cited
Strutzin, Jim. HubPages.Hub Pages, Inc, 2014. Web. 15 May
U.S. Constitution. Amend. I.
McLeod, S. A. Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. (2007). Web. 15 May 2014
McAuliffe, Kathleen.  If Modern Humans Are So Smart, Why Are Our Brains Shrinking?
DiscoverMagazine. Sept. 2010. Web. 14 May 2014.
Forni, P.M. The Thinking Life. New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 2011. Hardcover Book.
Carroll, S. B. Genetics and the making of Homo sapiens. Nature 422, 849–-857(2003).
Armario, Christine. Elementary School Arts Classes Reduced, Report Says.
HuffingtonPostEducation. 2 April 2012. Web. 22 May 2014.


School Dance Suggestions

Theme Ideas for Homecoming, Prom, or just a dance:

These are some less used ideas for a school seeking fresh designs
  • Under the Sea
  • Marvel/ DC
  • Video Games
  • Rave (splatter paint and glow in the dark)
  • Antiques
  • Renassaince
  • 80's
  • Drops of Jupiter (space theme)
  • Broadway
  • Fire and Ice
  • Elements
  • Children of Flowers (Hippie)
  • Glitter and Sparkle
  • Floating on Cloud Nine (heavens, silver lining, golden clouds)
  • Shipwreck (Mermaid's Caverm)

Riverbank (Poem)

It's always a chance
Always a chance to hurt or drown
Love.

It's like two banks of a river.

On on dusty bank, you walk...
Alone, happy, content, and free.

On the other dirt path, you walk with one's hand in yours;
Together, loving, happy, still free.

The only problem either side sees...
The only struggle you face
Is that jump.
That jump when you swim to the alone side.
Sometimes,
Sometimes swimming to the together side is rough, too.
Sometimes, that lover comes along with a boat...
They give you a gentle ride to peace.

And sometimes...
Sometimes they push you off half way across the Mississippi
But you can make it back alive...
If you try.

Never let go.
Do not be the lifeless one floating away down the river.
Do not be the one who gave up.
Not on life.
Or on love.
Get strength from the magnificent river!
And always...
Always and forever,

Look up.

Fallen Timbers (Poem)

I wrote what follows after my first truly broken heart had started to find healing in loving myself:


I can not believe how fast my love for you died:
How fast a blossoming tree crashed to the forest floor!
...but I guess it was not fast.
It was being eaten away slowly from the inside...
And no, it was not the woodcutter's ax that killed the tree.

Do not blame him.

It was my pain...and your unfeeling.
I'm not going to replant that tree.
I'm going to take up roots with a stronger one.
I'm gone. I'm dead. I'm fallen from your love.

And I am not coming back.

I'm moving on to a beautiful love...
One stronger than ours ever was.
Farewell forest floor! 
I'm growing tall! 
And your fallen timbers will never tear me down.


But roots have grown.
And sprouts...
They grow back.
It is my choice. My choice.

Forgiving and unfeeling do not mix well....

These timbers have rotted right next to me.
And I choose now to look around?
To look back...
Is pain a relief? 
Or is forgiving a poison?

Fallen timbers echo their crash.

Fallen timbers left their seedlings to bloom.

So, I'm coming back.
I'm creating a beautiful love...
One stronger than ours ever was.
Farewell forest floor!
I'm growing tall,
And the past's fallen timbers will never tear me down.