Her sweeping branches dance and sway,
Like waves rippling from the shore,
Her velvet flowers flow down her arms,
Cascading to the floor.
She murmurs to the flowing stream,
She whispers to the trees,
Her weeping tendrils dance and twirl,
Into the midnight breeze.
No matter what happens in other worlds,
I know that nothing can change her,
She’ll never change by will of man,
Only by will of nature.
Her bark has cut and torn my skin,
Her arms have yanked my hair,
Every time, I get new scars,
Yet somehow, I don’t care.
She’s always living in my mind,
I’ll always long to be,
Under her branches, far away,
Beneath the willow tree.