poetry for a new epoch

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Weeping Willow

My heart leaps up beyond the wishing excursions
of Summer when I see you standing alone in the
solitude of your ancestor glade, with tender tears
you weep to the tempo of this land’s rural architecture,
Weeping Willow, your beauty is a memory too green
to stay, too rare to last beyond this season’s late
sensitive spurs, still your spirit is embalmed in
rustic strength as your ageless roots drink the
milk from Gaia’s deep bosom, it rushes through you
-amber hot and amber cool-but as I look at you
content in your simple living I am left to wonder,
Weeping Willow, why does your sweeping leaves hang
down like tears, forsakened to this weary low,
weeping, ever weeping, why do you weep so, Willow?

Is it because you’re crying for the child who once
played among the timber sighs of your cradle branches,
but has now abandoned such blithful fare with
Summer’s hot and juicy end? If this is the reason
for your grieving then cease your perennial fears,
though the child is gone and though you may think
his laughter and the recess of fun he shared under
your protective boughs were but fond illusions,
falling onto your reprieve of Silence like the
falling Autumn leaves…his spirit remains behind
leisurely light and free, and the laughter that
has died into a bittersweet memorial of what was
will echo among the pretty lapses of your ivy tresses,
and even if he doesn’t return with the slow-evolving
of the Seasons’ tide his childhood shade will stay
to mingle with yours, and the weeping spray of your
leaves will remember as they shed trinkets of pleasures
now pale, vanishing with the delta Dusk, and I will
remember as I gaze at you, Willow, my fond friend.


Author: Jewel MoonSilver Knight

© Jewel MoonSilver Knight – All rights reserved. Full restrictions apply.

September 11-13, 2002