I am a weeping willow;
I do not weep tears of sadness,
but tears of joy.
My long tendrils hang, cover
my naked body, protect me
from the elements and
outside forces.
I stand here and weep–
weep for no other reason
than for the simple
reason that I can.
I will shed tears of sadness–
tears in all shapes and sizes.
And I will know that I am alive in this
world because
I feel.
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2 comments:
That was a really nice poem. I like that.
Thanks, Ryan. It was another one of those moments where the words from a previous moment came to me while I was waiting for the car to warm up. There's something about the hum and the surrounding trees that put me in a quiet place. It doesn't happen everyday, but I sure appreciate when it does.
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