The Roots of the Willow Tree

The weeping willow whispered to me, wrapped me
in her draping fingers
and allowed me to Be for a while.

(I never could forget that smile.)

He was there; I glanced at him with grace in my eyes,
as his fingers played upon strings
and his voice offered up melodies to the sky.

I wanted to say something, but… I didn’t even try.

There were too many moments
colliding into that one October night

and I could barely decipher the moonlight
from the soil beneath my hands.

My patchwork dress wrapped around my legs;
I gazed at the ground by my side
and breathed.

I could feel the willow’s roots beneath me,
her feathery promises above me…
and quite suddenly I felt safe in the world’s arms.

He was far away, where the music was, and
I was alone with the weeping willow and the stars.

All these moments were there between us
as the moonlight danced upon the water
and I wondered how deep the willow’s roots stretched into the earth.

We drank from that bottle of wine as though it would somehow stop time;
as though the music would never end and
that tree could weep forever.

As though that tree would weep forever.

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Tags:

comfort, earth, longing, love, music, peace, poem, roots, safe, tree and willow