Voices rang throughout the willow,
Symphonic, Angelic, free...
They defined this lovely tree.

Its own heart be,
as wise and true as the forest that surrounds it,
both old and new.

The Willow swishes its branches that gracefully dance,
moving to the beat of the music.
which hath put it in this trance.

The Willow is old,
The Willow is wise,
It knoweth thy soul,
behind your very eyes.

Its beauty is undefined,
Mythical and refined.
It sings along in kind.

You know your soul when it sings with thee,
The heart and soul of a tree.
They move, sing and cry.
Even within the darkest night.

The Willow is archaic,
as the earth it grows upon,
Renewed and restored,
by its mother above.

Pray for thee,
for it knoweth the end be soon,
When one day it may die,
Along with the forest too.

Thy soul of the Willow will live on,
It may also speak to thee,
within spirit...
of song.