Weeping Willow

The warm summer breeze gracefully pushed the

leaves of the willow tree,

like all the moving parts of a orchestra playing.

Withered, diseased, dying,

made vulnerable from neglect.

A small dismissed branch lead way to

a bigger process of demise.

From a distance, it still held beauty. 

My ears listened for the message as the 

paper wind chimes sang their history,

begging to relay wisdom.

The dry leaves hung on, grasping to stay unified

with the only beauty they had known.

Slowly, under protest, they gave way to the

gentle guidance of the breeze.

Reviews

[Michael G. Smith]

I love willow trees. They don't grow in Florida. You've captured their essence here.

[Najam Us Saher]

You have created a beautiful imagery. I liked the metaphor paper wind chime.

[Wendy Sue]

Thank you very much Najam

[Najam Us Saher]

You're welcome