The winds that whip my worry around Found me naked under the willow by the sound It yelled that i could not escape my fate Must confront or succumb to hate Not of anyone else, or anything But of myself and the worries I bring The willow once a happy tree, but now it weeped because of me.
My life is lived through words and how I mold them into poetry- Jorge Luis Borges
I have often pondered upon weeping willow trees. They used to scare me as a child, gently swaying in the wind. They knew something, they saw all I often thought. And I was frightened of what that was...what the sorrowful tree knew that I didn't. Your piece was lovely. ~~~~~~~~ When One learns to live without fear, then One cannot be broken.