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Rest Neath the Willow

A poetic ode to my mother, resting now in the bosom of nature

By Andrew C McDonaldPublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 2 min read
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Rest Neath the Willow
Photo by Alfred Kenneally on Unsplash

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

heartbreakinspirationalnature poetry
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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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