Willow Girl
She plays on the swing
her father made,
big thick ropes
and a seat of wood.
Inside a circle
of fronds, pale green,
she drifts and dreams,
curtained, unseen.
When her father
made the swing,
Willow Girl
was very young.
As she grows,
it remains her place,
her safe and private
magical space.
How could she
or her father know
the mystery
of the sacred willow?
They never guess
the ancient secret:
in every willow
lives a spirit.
And if you spend
a lot of time
beneath a willow,
your words will rhyme.
You will become
a poet, if you stay
long in that green light –
so they say.
Willow Girl's old
when she finds this out,
but she knows it's true:
she is a poet.
All her life
the words have been,
as once the tree,
her true companion.
To be a poet
makes her glad.
She thanks the willow
and her Dad.
Willow Tree by Geaugagrrl (released to public domain CC0)
(You have to imagine the swing, hanging from the lowest bough.)
Ah, the willow, Rosemary! Ours grew too high and tangled with the power lines that cross our garden; men with chainsaws came and mutilated her. I’m glad to say, that hasn’t stopped new growth. I look forward to a new ‘circle of fronds, pale green’, where I can drifts and dream ’curtained, unseen’. The ashes of one of my beloved cats are buried beneath our willow. I wonder if his spirit lives in it.
ReplyDeleteThey never guess
ReplyDeletethe ancient secret:
in every willow
lives a spirit...
I have long suspected this to be true!
Oh gosh I love this on so many levels! The idea of spending a lot of time beneath a willow,
ReplyDeleteand having your words rhyme is wonderful!! A most captivating write, Rosemary! ❤️
I only remember the old man willow in the lord of the ring, and he was not a man to give you poetry... good that there are this kind of spirits too.
ReplyDeleteI love the peaceful feeling of time spent under the willow. I can see the swing, and feel the spirit.
ReplyDelete