Willows Weep Not

Young Willow Tree

Willows Weep Not

They say some branches bend toward
earth in sadness, but can we not see
in you curiosity—oh, willow tree—
or a desire to rest your splendor as
peacocks do? The plummet of your
boughs could indicate any number of
moods and so many intentions. If I had
the body of a tree, I would surely want
to lower my limbs to carry caterpillars
while they’re yet crawling, to welcome
the activity of tiny, momentary legs on
my bark before chrysalis transforms
climbing into an airy affair. I would not
want to keep my foliage so far from
grounded things. Why do we not name
these or other understandings which you
embody as much as that of weeping?
We do not hear you sob or whimper or
wail with the working of some injury.
Still, we say you weep—that the sadness
of the world should belong to a tree.
Yet if there is sadness, it must grow from
the capacity to see in your firework form
anything but an explosion of life and in
your leaves a beautiful intricacy.

Young Willow Branches


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