As I sit and write this story,
I wonder if someone will see;
How much I want to live and learn,
and ultimately, be free.

It reminds me of the willow tree,
that weeps a symphony;
Caressing the ground as it lazily swings,
its flowing leaves in harmony.

Does the willow tree ever find some sleep,
or is it always awake to pray ?
For those of us lost in a frantic world,
for those who have so much to say...?

...But have no one to share their inner thoughts,
except with the willow tree;
Which sits so languidly on the hill,
a grand vision for all to see.

The rain keeps it fresh, damp and cool,
when each heart hears a sad goodbye;
And it lays its branches upon your soul,
with deep comfort within its sigh.

I love the sound the willow makes,
as the breeze floats through its leaves;
With fading memories of days long past,
no more chance for me to grieve.

Willows weep and give us hope,
even though their branches cry;
For Nature is a gift to show the way,
and sing us all a sweet lullaby.