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.