who do you weep for, willow?
You, certain of your roots seeking solace
as well your leaves from light ever faithful…
yet I wonder – is there sadness?
do you hasten to where you cannot go?
so much holds you where you are
and gives that on which you thrive.
you shout to the heavens
from your core of ringed reminders
of passing years.
you shed the layers of the past…
you see the ones who adulate their own virtues –
yet still you smile and
watch them run within four walls
trying so hard to hasten to go where they cannot.
For you know where peace exists,
and you are patient
as it is they you weep for.
even as the glass surface of water
will hold a wrinkle from a passing breeze,
underneath a maelstrom of motion,
O the exterior contrivance!
yes, all is not always what it seems.
…and I possess a bit of you both.
grappling with my own desire
to hasten to go where I should.
Tho’ my roots bemoan my glass surface –
contented depth confused with the shallow surface
of my wanderlust and the weeping –
in my self-pity…
these walls- entrap me.
I ponder breaking these bindings
of the opposing force
that holds my interest
even as I know my roots go deep.
And will I know liberty?
How long can it sustain me?
O doubting, misled heart.
I hear your whispers willow.
“…delighted souls let the breeze visit”
rather than force wind
upon their icy countenance
through self-mass in motion.
for within I know
I shall not be moved
despite my own desire.
I am held
as weeping branches
in the wind.
that is life, willow
…and I close my eyes
to remember the breeze.
(c) rick stassi