The Weeping Willow

The Weeping Willow

Beneath the weeping willow’s shade,

Where branches bow and whispers fade,

A silent sorrow in the air,

A mournful ache, a deep despair.

The leaves, like tears, begin to fall,

As if the tree has felt it all,

Each droplet caught in tender hands,

Carrying grief from distant lands.

The earth beneath its roots does sigh,

A quiet song, a soft goodbye,

For all the pain the tree has known,

In solitude, it stands alone.

And in the stillness, time stands still,

The willow’s sorrow, sharp and chill,

A quiet grief that lingers on,

A silent song when day is gone.