We are all like flowers -

Even in our birth.

Like a seed

planted

in the ground

yet swaddled with such mirth.

And when we grow

you surely know

that we all must be watered.

With love and grace,

strength and faith

all so wonderfully cottered.

So let us flourish

always nourished

like daylilies

in the sun.

As we must not forget

lest we come to regret

Any time that we have wasted

On Earth, meandering

slandering, pandering

void of a care in the world.

Life is shorter

Than we'd like to think

So let's be aware of the hours -

Sun can turn into showers

ever quickly

And we must try, not cower

Our time's like a race

The time ticking

down

Like beaming rays

of the sun

We'll run, run,

run and run,

Hebrews twelve

verse one.

Yes, we are all like flowers

changing through the seasons

Birthed, growing

always knowing

We're here

for so many reasons.

Okay, so I remember when I was younger and my friends would be like: "you don't like horror movies???" So I thought, "do I?"

No. Absolutely not. Younger me realized that they were definitely not my thing after watching one on Tubi, so I never want to watch one again (yes, they scare me that much). I had a bad dream after that, and when I told my mom, she squinted at me and asked, "did you read or watch anything scary?"

So I said, "nooo..." and felt incredibly guilty afterwards. And that was the end of it - I haven't watched another since, and I am quite content with that. Anyway, I'd have to say that I don't really have a favorite genre exactly. As long as my conscience allows it and it has an interesting plot, I'm happy to watch it!

At a time when

the atmosphere

changes -

when the leaves leap

off of the trees

their colors changing

like chameleons,

and the animals

prepare

for the long months

coming -

as the day pouts

at its shortened length

while the night smirks

in blissful

satisfaction,

I smile.

My eyes twinkle

as I see

God's signature

printed

all around

me.

In a time

That was very much like our own

There lived a girl.

She had heard of a path-

One that seemed to whisper to her

But she did not know that

Countless lost

Had heard it speak

And had become found.

This path was

Narrow, but straight.

She thought to herself:

This

path

is

too

hard

For me.

Not knowing that the only thing she would have to do

Was walk on the path

With a special guide that would help her with

everything

that

she

needed.

She took one step, then another

Onto this path.

It was only like a soft

Twitter of a bird, the way that it spoke

But the voice was sweeter than the sweetest candy.

Suddenly, though,

In the middle of its song

Was the most unwelcome interruption.

She

Failed to recognize

That this other noise

Was actually

the most horrid,

deafening

screech.

For if she had,

She would have covered her ears

And fled.

The scream

Filled her eardrums.

It fascinated her.

But she knew

That something about that

Distorted cry

Was off.

The enticement was too much

For her.

So instead of stepping forward,

She looked back.

Then,

She stepped back.

In the distance,

She saw a wide path.

It looked so different

from the path

That she had walked on.

It was paved with gold,

The finest silver,

The shiniest diamonds.

She thought that

It was simply beautiful

And oh!

so easy

To pass through.

And so it began.

She moseyed through this

Wide passageway,

And looked around her.

Her eyes liked what she saw-

Beautiful

flowers,

Wonderful

birds.

It seemed to be full of light

And life.

But all of a sudden,

She noticed something

strange.

As she ventured further and further

through this path,

Things began to change.

With every step,

The gold turned to lead,

The silver turned to coal,

And the diamonds

to ashes.

The grass

Once looking so green and vibrant

withered.

And the flowers

turned black

And vanished like smoke.

The birds’ song

No longer pleased her ears

And soon enough

the birds too

Fell to the ground

And died.

She sped along,

Thinking that this was just

A dark patch

In a quilt that she thought to be

made of

all sunlight.

But there was no end in sight

To this seemingly sudden

End of loveliness.

She sighed

And paused for

just a few seconds,

Closing her eyes

As she did.

She opened them.

All at once

She realized

That it was pitch black.

She could see nothing

in

the

slightest.

She gasped.

“Had it been like this all along?”

She found that those words

Leaving her mouth

were true

Though she hadn’t realized it.

Yes, indeed, she saw around her

Only darkness.

All that was on her mind

Was to find the light

That she had lost.

She turned on her heel

And walked.

As she got farther

And farther

From that wide path

She heard a noise.

At first, it was like the breath of the wind.

But as she got closer,

She found that it was familiar

To her.

She just could not

shake that feeling.

Then she realized that it sounded like the twitter of a bird.

This time, it felt

Like a pin

That would not stop pricking her

over

and

over

Again.

Until she could take it

no longer.

So she went even further

From that wide path,

Finding that as she did

She felt oddly peaceful

And the twitter

That had pricked her

sounded sweet

once again.

And then she saw it-

The narrow, straight path.

She decided

That she would walk this path once again

This time, going further

Than ever she had.

To her, it looked

Nowhere as beautiful

As the wide, broad path.

But she kept going.

She fell countless times.

All of her attempts

seemed to be in vain.

And, soon, she could not rise.

From her eyes flowed rivers

and her legs turned to flames.

Her shivers and shakes

Could not,

Would not,

be tamed.

But then she felt something different.

A tap on her shoulder.

She looked up

And there He was.

She had known

That He was real

But somehow, her mind

had

twisted

and

turned

Him

into a fable.

It was the special guide

That she had heard of

But had never acknowledged.

“What shall I do to escape this fate?”

she asked Him.

“For if I walk on the wide path, it is darkness. And even here, I feel no light!”

The guide

stared at her

in such a way

that she found that she

was unable

to hold His gaze.

She expected Him to shake his head

and disappear, like the beauty

of the wide path

had.

But instead

He smiled

and held out His hand

to her.

He said only a few words to her

But they were

More valuable

Than a million.

“Follow me,”

He said.

“And you shall find the light that you seek.”

So she took His hand

and He pulled her up

and He walked with her.

When she let Him do so, her surroundings began to change.

There were flowers there

More beautiful than the ones

Lining the wide path.

And the sky smiled down at her.

She looked back,

And found

That the beauty

was unchanging

And it was faithful

And it was true.

The girl was in awe.

She asked her guide,

“How have my eyes deceived me so?”

He looked at her and said,

“Because your heart was blind to the truth, you would not seek Me. Now you see the truth, and so the veil of darkness has been removed from your eyes.”

She was speechless.

And so the girl grew

Following her guide.

Sometimes she expected Him

to fail

But he never once did.

One day, He

Asked her

A question

As she looked back

and admired how far

She had come.

“Exactly how far could you have gone on your own? Tell me, would you have been able to endure as you were?”

She stopped

And realized an undeniable

Truth.

“I could not have risen, nor could I have continued if You had not been there to guide me.”

He nodded and smiled at her,

as

warm

as

a

hug.

Gently,

Yet firmly,

He said,

“Don’t you ever forget that,

My child.

Know that truth

Now and forever.”

Inspiration is one of those things

that we try so hard to look for

when sometimes

it is already right in front of us,

pining for our attention.

Sometimes it's in the smallest things-

the way the wind

breathes ever so slightly

on the trees

blowing them back and forth

or

the way

that

dandelion wisps

drift away

so easily.

Sometimes it's in the stressful things-

like how at times

sleep seems to run from us

faster than Usain Bolt

ever could.

But most of all,

(and I bet this'll sound cheesy)

inspiration is inside

each and every one of us.

So there's no need to find it

because eventually

It will come.

Around me it is beautiful.

The leaves on the trees,

delicately coated with droplets

of rain-

are greener than the greenest

emeralds.

And the river

Oh! The river-

it sparkles,

clearer than glass

and brighter than the whitest

smile.

Here there are the loveliest orchids

and hummingbirds hover around them,

feeding joyously.

Here there are creatures incomprehensibly

unique,

creatures that you can find

nowhere else.

Here there is light,

there is beauty,

and there is life.

I fall asleep.

I see wondrous clouds

with wondrous colors-

the lightest pink

like the slightest blush

that flushes

one's cheeks.

a lavender

that seems to be far, far away

dreamy, pensive.

a gentle, airy blue,

the loveliest yellow hue

all blending together

like one.

those clouds are of the softest colors-

They are of the softest colors.

Honestly, there is one thing (in my opinion) that separate true Christians from false ones.

True Christians (in my opinion) live by the Bible and by the God of the Bible (meaning that they let go of things that don't line up with the Bible (I'm saying Bible a lot, aren't I?).

Those people who cruelly condemn others? Well, they're not true Christians, because they're living in hate, and God calls us to love everyone. As long as someone lets go of any sin they were holding on to, no matter how late it may seem for them, they can be a Christian - it's not an all exclusive kind of thing. It was never meant to seem like an all exclusive kind of thing either, and false Christians are leading others away by making it appear that way. We don't have to be perfect, and the hypocrites that act so aren't. Lastly, (sorry that this is kind of disorganized) true Christians seem to have this loving quality that's easy to see but hard to explain - like this light that's inside of them but kind of shines on the outside, too. There are a lot of other things in the Bible that (through stories, parables, and the like) separate true Christians from false ones, but I'll end this here.

The wind pushes past me

with a whoosh

and a swish.

I breathe in the smell of the rain

as it pitters,

as it patters.

A puddle of water

splatters

onto my jeans

as I step into it.

To me,

that doesn't matter.

I sigh,

remembering

something that happened

earlier today.

It sounds

kind of

like

the whisper of a secret

or a gentle breeze

quietly synchronizing

with

the

wind.

I wrap my hand

around the door handle

and the door closes

with a satisfying

click.