The Weeping Willow

 This is the place, my place….
So just for a minute, leave me alone.
Let me stand here and look around,
Appreciate and honor the past
Flowing like a stream,
Like a highway that brings,
Like a high tide that washes up on dry shore,
Leaves me startled, exhausted, needing to pause,
Just for awhile, to see where I am.
 
Here, the branches of the weeping willow
Sway in blowing wind….
Bend down to sweep the grass of shadows,
Kiss the Earth but leave no footprints—
A blessing of silence in mid-afternoon.
If I were to take a photograph,
I could not capture this holy effect:
Stillness and motion under shade of the willow,
Brushing tendrils of hair on the ground.
 
Please God, let the willowy green leaves
Brush against my face and wipe all tears away,
Fall as I weep at discovery of this place,
My place, here, alone in this time that is mine…
Under this willow, surrounded by peace and grace.
 
Be for me the lake in the background.
Be for me the willow tree, bending elegantly,
Swaying in motion but deeply rooted.
Be for me the ground underneath.
Be for me the sky and the clouds and the rain
Falling as tears on my face.
 

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