Rest Neath the Willow
A poetic ode to my mother, resting now in the bosom of nature
Wandering through the scree
A reluctant sigh
Escapes from the embattled
Prison of my soul
Sunlight falls
Broken waves of molten warmth
Alighting on the nape of my neck
Kiss of a fiery butterfly
Earth’s finest musicians orchestrated by Mother Nature
Conducted by a maestro in riotous feathers
Looses a crescendo of scintillating vibrations
A humming susurrus lightly tickles my eardrums
Thrumming their knobbed instruments
Cicadas and crickets empathize
With mournful melody
Deep toned frogs
Contralto bees
Rising undertones uplifting the song
Of a lonely Whippoorwill
His mate flown to a place unknowable
Sensitive fingers trail down the stem of a willow branch
Drooping canopy a shimmering curtain
Obscuring the entryway
To a shadowy serene plane of being
Wherein the cares of the world can be shorn
Like locks of hair grown long
Matted from wistful neglect
For an eternal moment
Lasting an eon in a single second
As long as that in which this earth was born
Nested tranquility soothes a troubled spirit
Sitting on a carpet
Finely woven nettles
Soft and full as the most lovingly knitted blanket
Fingers knead in the moist dirt below
Tips gouging, sinking into the flesh of the earth
Through the warmth of the upper layer
Into damp skeletal coolness underneath
Grasping digits intruding on a separate universe of life
Alien to our inward focusing human condition
Grubs and worms
Lazily wend away
Questing invaders
Violating the sanctity
Of their peaceful home
Perfect knot on the bole of the weeping tree
Kneads tension from an aching shoulder
Errant thoughts wander over her last few months
Loving strength of spirit
Indomitable, Protective, Sheltering
Her mere existence a comforting retreat
From woes of an uncaring universe
Mom always did love to sit under this tree
Bathing languidly in dying sunlight
Gathering her resources
Empowered
Preparing to face the tribulations of daily life
Here in this beauteous place we consecrate her remains
Sanctified by omnipresent serenade
Of the eternal orchestra that is Nature’s gift
Her dear friend the melancholy Willow
Weeping for her passing
As we draw comfort from the knowledge
That her spirit rests easily in the shade
Watching over those of us awaiting our reunion
We love you Mom
About the Creator
Andrew C McDonald
Andrew McDonald is a 911 dispatcher of 30 yrs with a B.S. in Math (1985). He served as an Army officer 1985 to 1992, honorably exiting a captain.
https://www.amazon.com/Killing-Keys-Andrew-C-McDonald-ebook/dp/B07VM843XL?ref_=ast_author_dp
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