The Willow

It started as a gentle breeze,
a whisper in my ear:
the weeping of a weeping willow,
weeping out of fear.

'Why do you weep, weeping willow?
There is no reason to cry.'

With a sigh, the wind blew the
answer and it brought tears to
my eyes.

Weeping willows weep of what has been.
Weeping willows weep of what is to be.
They weep of losing everything.
They weep of losing memories.

As the willow leaves hang,
they hang low to hide the face;
for the willow that weeps for 
what has been and is to be,
and everything and memories.

But when the willow gleams with pride,
It stands proud as if to touch the sky.

It cries tears of joy as well,
as the breaths of wind explain.

When the cry of happy children,
live in the leaves below,
weeping willows feel the love,
and the happiness does show.

The leaves get greener, 
the trunk stands taller,
and tears of happiness
caused by the morning dew
emerge.

What is been.
What is to be.
Fear of losing everything.
Fear of losing memories.
Happiness.
Confidence.
Pride.
Love.

And that, is why Weeping Willows weep.