Pinks and blues fade
With the sun as it
Surrenders to the night and the stars
Begin to dust the sky.
There stands the
Weeping Willow with its drooping branches
And long mournful whispers.
Winds breeze by, tugging at its
Wistful sighs, trying to pry free
The memories which it holds,
But the Willow refuses to let go
Of the sorrows that keeps it rooted.
She came and she went, the girl,
But would always return to the
Comfort of the Willow's embrace.
Running with unadorned grace
In her world of tightly strapped harnesses
And cruel iron cages,
The Willow was her escape to hidden liberty.
Her hair billowed behind her,
The muddy golden tresses twirling with
The wind as it enveloped her in great waves.
Then she would be there,
Plunging into the Willow's welcoming arms,
The leaves sashaying with the gently swaying branches
As she brushed past their soft caress.
The branches fell back
Into place and the breeze
Drifted into a soft melody
To ease the girl's pain.
She would crumple
At the foot of the Willow, whispering
Cries for mercy and pleas for understanding.
Hours pass by as she finds
Solstice in the silent companionship of the
Once forgotten Willow.
With each sadness that came,
She would whisper her sorrow into the knot
In the trunk so as to place the burden
Upon someone who so willingly accepted it.
As each pained word passed from
Girl to Willow,
A new leaf would grow on the limbs
And gravity would work to drag the branch low.
Day after day the girl would return
With resounding wails that sliced through the night.
Such innocence was coveted, but not the
Tears that followed,
None could soothe the scars with
The unmatched tenderness of the Willow and
The Willow would await the sight
Of her floating through the reaching grasses
To wander into its ever loving serenity.
Branches sang with tragic beauty,
Parting just enough to allow her figure through and
Drooping lower and lower
With the weight of her tears.
She was a humble being,
The rare kind who only chose to see light
In the surrounding darkness.
The years went on, her child-like nature
Turned into a treasure of youth
And more heartbreak came along with it.
She grew more passionate and
Urged words, such beautiful words, to
Lead her through the pain.
The Willow became a beloved sounding post
For thoughts so heartfelt and beautiful
To come from such a tender aged girl.
Her speech became eloquent,
Her tongue fast with biting words of
Deep pain and flames of regret
Licking down her throat.
The Willow stood and listened in patient earnest
As she knelt and sobbed rivers
That flooded the core of its interior.
Youth faded and she wizened
Much too much and walls were built
To safeguard secrets only the Willow knew.
Autumns flew by and with each one
The Willow grew heavier in the girl's despair,
But always lighter in the love she inflicted.
Time took its toll on her,
As it does all living creatures,
And so on her last day with the Willow,
Not for her great sadness,
But for the joy she had been given
Through the Willow and other great things
She had attained in life.
The Willow was her treasure, for it
Had taken all her sorrows upon itself,
Each tear shed hanging on the branches of its
Body, hanging for her,
Skimming the dirt of the Earth.
So with her last breaths she thanked
God for His creations and beauty of the things
That by most go unseen.
The day was finally captured by night
And the Willow stood sentry over the
Beauty who sought its company.
There stands the Weeping Willow.