The Weeping Willow

A quiet place

A strong, elegant weeping willow

Standing guard and protecting.

A dapples sunlit ground

Gently sloping with a flowing ocean green.

Grey stones, some fresh, some centuries old,

Some strong and upright, some broken and fallen.

The willow is the keeper, the protector-keeping watch over all.

It hears the cries; it hears the questions.

Never having a reply nor an answer

Just the gentle caress of its soft leaves;

The strength and power contained in its old trunk.

Now scarred, broken, and old-marred by the ones who have come seeking for solace.

But still standing in all its glory-strong and proud.

Another seeker is coming.

Seeking for the same things all the others have before.

An answer to the eternal question…

Why?
The weeping willow stretches it branches to welcome the seeker once again.

For to the willow, they are all the same.

Author's Note

Say what you will :)

Reviews

[Dinkleman]

This is a good poem. I like the way you used personification to describe the tree as a protector and mentor. Well done :)!