Willow's Song

Willow's  Song
by Robert L. Ward



Do willows dream an endless sleep,
of earthly woes, and why they weep?
Their melancholy spirits steep,
in the urn of heaven's tears.

For willow's ear, the song is strained,
the earth's impassioned soul's refrain;
whose bark becomes a cure for pain,
a treasure through the years.

Wisdom she cries in the silent wind,
and nurtures virtue deep within;
her earthly mother underpins,
the rhyming in the snow.

This song that only trees can hear,
this instrument strung without a ear;
Bids winter's dream to disappear,
the way that seasons go.

In blooming elegance, Aprils dream,
the melancholy dream it seems;
in pastures bound in blossom leans,
is reborn from the sleep.

With clouds and thunder, storms embrace,
a seedling springs with nature's grace;
a child is born to fill the place,
no sorrowful song could keep.

As summer's stormy tumults cease,
with spearhead leaves a dream release,
Oak's mournful sister sighs in peace,
life's dance beneath the shade.

A canopy of weeping eyes
sways in the breeze, but realize;
that seasons turn to finalize,
the sonnet she has made.

So willow dreams of songs untold,
that drown the darkness of the cold;
of life reborn in days of olde,
and things that soon must be.

Life's cycles mark the march of time,
in tears marked in the willow vine;
her path to God the same as mine,
a weeping willow tree.

© 2006 Robert L. Ward
Michelangelo