Withering weeping willow,
why do you weep so sad?
Your tears tickling the ground
on which I love to stand.
My withered willow is weeping.
Its tears of leaves raining,
throwing away seasons' memories, keeping
them to a wind, staying.
Withered weeping willow,
why mimic the veins in my heart?
But then cradle me in your pillow.
For my pain you will smart.
Promise pleasurable peace
when the wind doesn't whip with
branches of a broken bark.
Weeping willow, take the pain
away from lashes.
But do not hurt me with your own.
Broken branches bathe me in a scent, tart.
Trying to hear your secrets I strain.
Crying loudly when lightening flashes.
Afraid of weather once known.
Awaken withered willow.
Please start to weep again.
Even though this world you depart
I will always remember my crying friend.
And in my heart you will weep again
Written ~2002 about my favorite tree that was once in my childhood home's back yard for more than 10 years. Eventually it died after a lightening strike and one too many storms. I was sad to see them cut the tree I climbed in throughout a good portion of my childhood to escape from the world. However, I was also happy to see her go due to the fact that the branches could often become an all too painful "belt" for misbehaving kids.