When I pass away,
bury my ashes in the dirt
along with some seeds.
I want to become a Weeping Willow,
the most whimsical and honest tree
in existence.

When humans become sad,
I can provide them with shade, shelter and
safety, casting my branches over them
in a protective embrace.

I’ll know the pain that burdens their
shoulders, for I was once in that same place.
I can listen to their problems when nobody
else will, and be able to understand.

Their tears will provide my soil
with strength to stand
strong and not falter.
The hums of Earth’s sounds will lull
them back to the safety of reality.