This Willow Does Not Weep

There are tracks

And there are fences



There are roads that dare you to cross

With the threat of death as failure



These are but serene images of life



The tracks criss-cross somewhere

On the other side of a great expanse

Of Nothingness sits a humble

Willow bent a little from her wear

But still reaching out curiously

If only in question as to what

Else exists beyond her



And the fences tie in

A pleasant, green acreage

That is forever safe and contained

As long as the fences are standing



The Willow murmurs no remorse

At the unpleasantness seen

And heard in an ordinary world

Her roots are light/She is always

Ready to travel, although grounded



Love of Milk of Earth

Keeps her here

As the fence ties in the

Root-knot bundle of dirt

The track and rail

Hold the delicate pin and stake

At ease even as the Monster

Shudders by overhead



Bears black and brown

Used to roam here

Do not question the footprints

Left behind on Ancient Soil



They never lie outright

They only slowly erode

Like a dimming night sky

Or beach sand under a

Powerful, receding tide



Still, the Willow refuses to weep

However low it is she must bend

Until her highest branches

Reach ground, as if in

Worship of the one thing

That forever binds her

And is forever bound to her



Grounded and placid

And searching for more amongst

Her own roots that cannot dig any deeper.