Call her Willow

I

If I was to be a tree,

What tree would I be?

So many to find. To see.

 

A stately pine.

Would be so fine.

Green all the time.

….

what I really want to say is…

If a tree is what I had to be.

Then a willow would be me.

….

II

Willow, spirit tree. Woman tree.

Bitter bark that eases pain.

Silvery leaves a dancing shade.

She bends in strong winds.

Breaking only builds her up.

Roots reaching to water.

Holding on to life held dear.

Each fallen branch grows tall.

Willow family a rainbow!

Red, scrub, silver and more.

Willow shades and shelters.

Willow dances in a storm.

Growing in drought and flood.

She keeps rooted deep. Steady.

If I am not a willow then maybe

may faith can be like a willow.

Strong and flexible. Healing.

Able to grow in adversity.

Sheltering. Strongly caring.

Rest here. I’ll shade you.

Cover you. Feed you.

Shining a shimmery bright

a faith light maybe to see?

No city on a hill, but in a

forest of darkness some light.

Reflecting Light. Reaching

deep roots down to Holy

Water and drinking deep.

Staying strong. Resting.

Bending and in the places

where breaks come being

stronger there. Stronger.

Faith like a willow!

 

Abhra has us considering not just the noble tree but actually poetically seeing ourselves as trees.  I have no trees out my window today at work but I know they are there. And I love them all!  Come by dVerse and share your thoughts, poetry and love with those other poets who are so bravely and wonderfully sharing their words with us!

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