Sitting beside the weeping willow, they talk.
Questions asked. Answers given. Hearts shared.
Amidst laughter and even tears, intimacy reborn.
Weeping willow, why do you cry?
There is peace.
Always peace.
Drooping branches dance in the gentle breeze.
Sadness subsides amidst the quiet rhythm.
Carried on the wind of tomorrow’s promise.
Weeping willow, why do you cry?
There is hope.
Always hope.
Willows have always seemed like such introspective and wise trees. Let peace and hope guide you through change and growth.
By: Natalie on September 19, 2007
at 4:20 pm
:) Good poem, Alece.
By: annie on September 19, 2007
at 4:22 pm
Tender…personal…touching.
By: Amy on September 19, 2007
at 8:12 pm
Nada poslijednja umire.
That’s a serbian saying: “hope dies last”. I love it. (don’t ask me to pronounce it, I don’t really know…)
Thanks for spending the day with me, groggy and all.
I love you so much.
-Becca
By: Becca on September 19, 2007
at 8:27 pm