In the lone glade of a twisting stream
a willow weeps, not in sadness nor in anger
but in awe of the world that grew around it
the flowers that bloom, the birds that sing.
In the moment that lovers whisper forever,
In the moment that forever ends before its time.
When the child it shades enjoys a cool breeze over the water and dreams of adventure and possibilities roam free,
When the ripe mind of adulthood forgoes dreams and settles into its simple life. In all its time a witness to sadness and joy,
a spectator of life.
And it goes on,
the stream still runs,
the wind still caresses its leaves and branches,
and the sun still warms it in the winter.
For the weeping willows life goes on.
As a witness it weeps for you,
in joy and in sadness.
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