Back to the Willow Tree

In the setting of a willow tree swaying in a serene meadow,

We watch and listen as nature's whispers crawl into our ears and skin.

Our eyes never see the whispers, always leaving us in the shadow.

The branches of the tall willow, long and wide, gently sway in the breeze.

Mesmerizing all of those who come across it once in a lifetime.

Entranced by its beauty, we fall to our knees and start to feel unease.

Not sure of what's coming, so we run and hide away from it all.

Far from the stories that whispered from the willow's leafless branches

But we always come back to the mysteries of the tree, always tall.

The forever-changing seasons make their mark on the old willow tree.

With the winter's harsh touch and the spring's tender touch, new life expands.

We watch as the tree slowly decays, knowing one day we will all be.

The tree now timeless as the willow whispers through generations.

Past, present, and future all part of the continuum of nature.

The power of the willow's voice, its whispers, evokes sensations.

With life all gone, the willow tree remains, no one to hear its whispers.

Now with the acceptance of death, the wisdom of the willow remains.

They never came back to the willow's branches to get their sisters

We won't come back to the willow until we have all grown whiskers.