Wisdom of the Weeping Willow Tree

Much wisdom,

the weeping willow gave me,

in the summers,

that it flourished,

in a strange garden.

*

“There is no death”,

only the procession,

from garden to garden,

from valley to valley.

*

Past weeping willows,

on flowing river banks,

past red poppy fields,

over the mountains of sorrow,

past childhood valleys,

around the deep and mysterious,

wishing well.

*

Just sit beneath me,

said the weeping willow,

close your eyes,

sit back and dream your best dreams

and soon you will be,

beyond the rainbow -

in a garden paradise.

*

You’ll be smiling,

as you put your worldly clothes aside,

eternity’s wreath,

the angle holds in his hand,

he’ll lead you to a table,

where freshly baked bread -

is divided among the souls.

*

Soft like a cloud,

he’ll lean over you

and then you’ll hear -

soft whispers of friendship.

*

Till then you must begin,

to weave your eternity wreath,

blossom by blossom,

till one day it will be done

and the angel will then come,

to take you to a peaceful garden.

*

Until then your life is your own,

seek wisdom from me,

sit beneath me in the shade,

whenever you are weary,

I will make you smile again

and through life you’ll go dancing.