Willow Tree

I often look out the window at my Willow tree,

And with sorrow count our endless similarities.

My Willow tree is dying, pieces lying on the ground,

I pick them up and place them close by when they are found.

I sometimes cut them, stack them up, against my Willow’s base,

And gaze up at its plight as a dead leaf brushes my face.

The branches, twigs, and limbs that have all snapped away

Cannot be placed back where they were, to help stop the decay.

What used to be whole and healthy; sturdy, strong and true,

Is now broken, struck, diseased, and rotting through and through.

What once had such deep-set and firmly grounded roots,

Could no longer hold aloft an owl as he hoots.

One solitary branch arcs down to touch the grass and soil,

As if trying to help the trunk; against all odds it toils.

Away from my Willow leans a young, small silver maple,

Unwilling to get too close to something so unstable.

The other trees all give my Willow a quite generous berth,

As if contact with a trembling branch could cause egregious hurt.

My Willow tree stands all alone, but cannot call for help;

It only moans and creaks a bit, its suffering unfelt.

The broken pieces, still they lay, dead, piled in a hill,

My tree, fragmented, tries to stand another Winter’s chill.

As I watch from my window the remaining branches sway,

I know my Willow tree will last at least another day.

But what about a month, a year, perhaps a decade more?

Can it survive when fragmented and rotting from the core?

12-13-11

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About Whimsical Scribe

I'm a writer at heart, but not by trade (yet anyway). I graduated from college in 2002 with a double Bachelor's degree in both English (creative writing concentration) and Psychology. Both are fairly useless majors in the job market today, unless you further them, which is what I have started to do and one day hope to have the finances/wellness to continue. Sadly, I have not been inclined to do much writing at all, of late, which is why I decided to start this blog. I live in a very rural area in the Northeast USA. I am the owner of three fantastic canines, an animal welfare advocate, vegetarian, environmentalist, and progressive thinker. I support the Ian Somerhalder Foundation, the Animal Rescue Site, and hope one day to become a doggy foster parent again, along with becoming a writer at some point in the near future. I have Dissociative Identity Disorder, and also struggle with major depression and anxiety, and have for most of my life. PTSD is something I also live with. I am hoping that talking about/blogging about these things will be a help, both to me, and to others as well. Sometimes, one of my people may blog something as well, so not all views presented in this blog may be "mine" so to speak.
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4 Responses to Willow Tree

  1. cannabisara says:

    Ahh trees and their symbolism of life and death. Powerful.

  2. Pingback: A River of Stones: Day 10 | Inspired Vision

  3. Pingback: The Willow Tree « The Persian Kitty

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