In the great districts of my hometown,
Where large apartment buildings are our skyscrapers,
That touch the clouds and pierce into the heavens,
There stood an old grey building out of pebbles.
A relic of a terrible time, when bricks were a luxury,
And locks where made to keep us in and not the baddies out.
Outside of this building, stood a willow a tree.
It lived past centuries, saw the pebble fortresses built,
The cold pavement placed, the greyness setting in.
I remember swinging on its branches when I was little,
I saw it age right before my eyes, change its colors,
In the bleak districts of my hometown.
Below this world tree, I was safe.
Swinging on its branches as if Tarzan,
Putting spells into place as Merlin,
Slaying dragons like Prince Charming…
The branches of the willow became like pages of a book,
Each representing different fantasies and stories,
Building a world of its own…
Here I truly saw the sunlight in between the leaves,
Felt the cold morning breeze,
Saw the exchange of the seasons…
And with every single season passing by,
I grew older with the willow tree,
Just like my ancestors did,
How my mother and brother once did,
Swinging on the same branches and glaring at the same leaves,
Yet soon Tarzan was replaced with chemistry lines,
Merlin became a mathematician, getting involved in trigonometry,
While Prince Charming gave lessons in history.
Soon as the seasons passed,
I left the bleak districts of my hometown,
Setting foot into new apartment buildings,
Seeing new willow trees that just started to place their roots…
When I came back – the willow was no more.
Only a bit of its stump left in the ground,
Its old roots sticking out like momentous of history…
Ages worth of memories and fantasies,
The father and mother to many children,
The guardian and protector of the innocent…
Yet when I leaned down and ran my hands on the freshly cut stump,
Tracing the lines and reliving history itself – I smiled.
As for even in death, this willow tree, my willow tree,
Has taught me lessons, I don’t remember learning.
A poem about an old willow tree outside my home and the weird sentimental value it held.