Sometimes a poem can take years to complete. Sometimes it is never complete. This one I’ve just made a bit better.
My friends, I know I’ve been a while. Thank you for your patience. New poems are coming. Here’s the first!
The Oak and the Willow
The Willow grew, first up, then down
And hung her head in sadness
Her arms allowed no sunlight in,
Shut out potential gladness.
But she sent roots into the earth
To reach the cleansing water,
For if you can’t be glad, be deep,
That is what life had taught her.
The Oak grew strong, and wide, and high,
He stretched his limbs out, dreaming
Of sky, and growth, and summer days
Beneath the sunlight, gleaming.
His branches sheltered picnic meals
And children at their games,
He caught their frisbees, gave them shade,
And learned all of their names.
The Oak reached for the Willow’s arms
To lift her sorrowed spirit,
He whispered word of love and light,
And prayed that she could hear it.
The Willow feared to bare her face,
But sent her roots beneath him.
For though her arms were weak and frail,
Perhaps her soul could reach him.
At last he reached so far, that when
A courage-wind came sweeping,
Her arms rose up to twist with his
And ended all her weeping.
She taught him how to dig down deep
And draw from hidden streams.
And, leaning on each other’s strength,
They grew to reach their dreams.
– s. Clark