WILLOW

within the woods lies a moonlight path
roses dripping dew from their lunar bath
years ago in the midst of november
beneath the ice burned a solitary ember

the fire of life when it might have been quenched
a symbol of nature from the heavens sent
immortality within the mortal ways of life
the creator of war and the answer of strife

from that single spark a willow was born
its stroy of life is continously torn
wepping, it sways, an unsettling presence
agony is its constant essence