Looking at the weeping willow

As I was looking at the weeping willow,

I realized that I was entirely to blame,
Unlike the poor thing in front of me standing,
I do not have roots to keep me exactly the same.
I should not stand in one place forever,
Who knows what the road tomorrow will bring,
Run straightaway and try to discover,
How again to be able to laugh, dance, sing.
But instead, I wandered lonely as a cloud,
Making my way through the sea of nothingness,
Rambling everyday in constant pursuit,
Of hopefully finding the right address.

Author's Note

For contest

Reviews

[serpent]

excellent! hats off to the writer... to start with the flow of this piece is exceptionally smooth...and once again you have beautifully expressed the generally aggressive emotions in a subtle manner...loss of love always seems to leave us struck and moving on appears to be impossible..but once again the i can feel the writer trying to fight her way out of the dark alleys of heartache...
i am sure the right address wont take long to be found!

[kij143]

The very last line could have been worded perhaps a little better? The last word seems a little akward to me.
At any rate, I loved the poem, great symbolizism. Really appreciated it, I feel like Im taking something away form reading this, good job and thanks(:
~Kij

[angelina neves]

lovely poem! Beautiful idea!

[just is]

I think this is just simply amazing. Wonderful wording and description given. Like the imagery as well.

[Coyote Poetry]

The poem is so good. Title brought me in. I like the logic of this poem. Your words tell a true story. We are to blame when we close the openings to celebrating being alive. I like the ending. Many powerful lines making the poem have purpose and reason.
"Who knows what the road tomorrow will bring,
Run straightaway and try to discover,
How again to be able to laugh, dance, sing."
A outstanding poem. Thank you.
Coyote

[Pax Analog]

Amusing paradox, re roots. The tree can't run around, and we don't always know what to do w/our ambulatory freedom.

T.S. Eliot wrote about returning home to know the place for the first time.

The Buckaroo Banzai film had the line "No matter where you go, there you are."

Your fine poem invites us to contemplate sitting and walking in an attentive, bemused light.