A willow drinking deeply from the slowly dying pool
Sees midnight sky reflected, with secrets proud and cruel
Each frond dripping a memory, a taste of what has been
Of faded years, lost hopes and fears,and all this she has seen
A breeze disturbs her branches, casting off decay
Of times that are forgotten, long years of yesterday
Its breathe a ghostly dancer, a faded timeworn growl
But listen to its sadness as it raises to a howl
Each blade of grass stands listless, burst forth from lifeless mud
Held fast by roots that give it life, from rotting mass and blood
Now swept by venting fury, whose cold grip rips and tears
The refuse of the centuries, old time abandoned cares
With mounting wrath this zephyr shrieks its ominous lament
But who wonders why it whispers, or by whom it was sent
And why do we not listen, as once we did before
And what will be the ending if we fail to hear its lore
The sky begins to shudder, as clouds prepare for war
First drops of icy water, lay huddled on the floor
Like tiny dancing needles, falling swiftly to the soil
A cold dank patch of contrast, as the elements come to boil
Now slowly growing stronger, each wave with building grief
Lashing helpless Willow, her old limbs shorn of leaf
They strike the earth, embrace the dust, in a flowing mad caress
A blend of knowing elements, we understand less and less.
