The Willow
The Willow
A young man walked among the green
With a quiver and hunting bow.
He saw a sight he ne’er seen
A girl of an ancient willow.
The young man awed in her beauty
Asking “Why the forlorn face,”
She looked at him and murmured,
“I cannot leave this place,”
The young man pondered and queried,
looking under his musty boot.
The willow said, “Please leave me now,
Please leave me and my root,”
The young man was entranced and said
“Nay, come with me to wed,”
He raised his hand and pleaded
“Come leave thy willow bed,”
The willow girl refused him
An answer calm and tame.
The young man grew vehement
“You tarnish thy name!”
The young man came with anger and ax
A vengeance on his mind
He swung and cut the willow bark
All blinded by his pride.
The willow girl cried out in pain
As her tree was chopped and hashed,
“Slaying me won’t solve a thing
For fate will bring backlash!”
The young man ignored the willow girl’s plea
And warning of the ’morrow.
And as she wilted with final breath
She wept “You’ll only feel sorrow,”
Seasons after seasons, years after years
The young man young no more.
The wrongs of his youth gave light to the truth
A ceaseless internal war.
By an unknown force the old man returned
To the forest fogged with his past.
Weighted by the guilt of the willow’s death,
The roots entangled at last.
Overcome with sorrow as the willow foretold,
The old man shed a tear.
Laying down to rest as a pain claimed his chest,
Feeling tired and lost and fear.
The old man’s eyes grew heavy and weary
The grass like nature’s bed.
A warmth encompassed his entire being
He no longer felt that dread.
That final tear the old man shed
’Twas the final key to be free.
To let go of guilt of the willow’s wilt
To sprout a newborn tree.
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