Beautiful Disaster

Why Do You Weep, Dear Willow?

Winter's chill
Seems to take life
From all that might have lived
Death consumes
Or so it seems
So tired
The old willow looks
Her branches lay limp
Gray sleeves hardly reveal
Brown arms
Entangled amongst each other
Each unique
With different destinations
Maybe that's why
The old willow weeps
She doesn't stand tall
Like the oak or the maple
Her complexities
So misunderstood
But as the seasons turn
So does she
Spring calls out to her,
“Awaken thee soul,
Dear willow.”
The willow wakes
Stretching her arms
Toward the sky
Oh how she longs to be
Beautiful like a rose
Slender like a pine
Twisted like a vine
But her buds never
Blossom into beauty
And although each arm
Is slim
It's twisted with another
Maybe that's why
The old willow weeps.
Reflections from the pond
Tell her
She will never be
As beautiful as she would like to be
So she accepted her fate
As the old willow tree
And grew larger
And stronger
And greener
Summertime came
And with summer came
Boys, girls, picnics
And the old willow
Was embraced
Not for being
The most beautiful
Or strongest
Or tallest
But for being so
wonderfully unique
Maybe that's why
The old willow weeps
She finally sees
What was in her all along




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