The Sorrow of the Weeping Willow
Why does the willow weep as if curse’d
by a witch’s spell. To be cast away
from whom it loves with so much left unsaid.
Shackled by roots the willow wallows day
after day. Every branch a memory
of a moment it can’t have back. Its heart
aches and cracks the bark that tells its story
of love gone to waste before it could start.
And so the willow weeps a pond of tears
right beside it. It’s life-like reflection
sways the same way when a spring breeze appears,
but it’s deceived by rippling rejection.
The willow’s sorrow remains and runs deep
In its roots. Cursed to be alone and weep.