It is my wish that you should be,
A strong willow,
Branches waving in my tomorrow.
A stone stuck firm in the fields of forever.
Hoping your waves will travel,
backward through time;
To kiss the sands of this island,
lingering a moment,
and washing back away.
But even if I find your tree
laid bare in winters closing.
I will rejoice to find myself
held in your naked branches.
And like some mad bird
I will nest with no clutch.
Just to be near you at years end.