Willow Speaking

When I was young, I had a lot of feelings that I really didn’t know what to do with. And often, I let out those feelings in a poem. I still do from time to time.

Willow Speaking

Whispering willow

what do you say

as your branches sway?

Your long hair turning

brilliant and yellow

This warm December air

are you basking in this winters’ long light?

The kittens play beneath

your long arms

and brush their face on your

gentle fingertips.

You stand tall as the

brownstone homes

sheltered from the street side

a quiet dance,

you seem to play.

Upon my balcony,

I can’t look away.

If that tree could speak, I wonder

what would it say?

“These seasons will turn

as they always do.

Winters’ breath is near by.

Be patient, but not still

life is more than just your will”.



1 Comment

  1. earthwindtyahoocom

    The willow speaks to me, as in memories of my youth. When I was a child, we had a weeping willow tree in our front yard at 54 Lyndon Rd. in Syracuse, NY. I spent hours climbing and sitting in the protective branches of this tree, hidden from view. I could be myself, alone or with God. I used to sit and pray, singing or talking to the tree, feeling on top of the world. One day, I was determined to climb to the very top, unaware that the thinning branches at the top wouldn’t hold my weight the higher I climbed, until all at once, the branch I was on broke, and I fell feet first! Each branch caught my chin in such a way as to break my fall. I only suffered bruises under my chin, but no broken bones. I felt as if the tree was like a loving mother, and was there to protect me. I’m glad that both you and my sister Nanci, have weeping willow trees watching over you.

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