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Gary W. Sherwin's Poetry

Fallen Willows
(A Free Verse Allegory For The Loving of Fallen Willows)

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The day of the oak tree, growing downward
Sinking snarled roots into fertile sky
Immovable and solid as a crumpled brown leaf
Thrown skyward on a snowy March wind that blows
Swaying, straining, breaking over and down
Blowing, blooming willows on a sunny April day

They say a broken tree has failed in life
For having broken from its purpose
And fallen from its stated goals and expectations
It will not again reach upward and stand
Providing the shade and shelter that make it of use
Which is, after all, the reason for its birth
From the seed its parent fed

They say the fallen hulk deserves to
Break, rot, crumble, - die - , be fed upon by termites
A fallen tree is not good for anything
You can not depend upon it to be there
Standing, holding, shading, holding,
A world of creatures who rely upon it
For food, shelter and insight, Yes who rely upon it.

They say the willow failed when it fell
But if you look carefully, you will realize how wrong they are
Remember the thousand severed branches of furry kittens
Shoved into and drowned in a hundred slimy jars
For each spring's mother and teacher and favorite acquaintance?
Shoved into a jar to be forgotten on the window seal
Until the kittens are dead and their pleasant furry warmth is gone?
Gone and replaced by the stench of green slimy water
Green slimy water in an old stinky jar, reeking of death

Remember the thousand severed branches of furry kittens
They lost their beautiful fur and died, forgotten in the jar
But wait - Didn't they refuse to die? Don't you remember?
When they threw away the dead brown sticks
That once gray kittens played upon
When they pulled the sticks from the black putrid water
There were roots. Roots had grown from each brown stick
Each stinking jar tried and did kill the exuberant youthful kittens
But did not succeed to kill the branch, to kill the tree
To kill the willow, refusing to die, clinging to life

They say the willow failed but they are wrong
For anyone can see that they are blind and can not see
The fallen willow grasping and hugging the earth
And then next spring bursting forth in victory
With an army of new willows with kittens
Claiming victory and continued life in its rightful place
Which is but to continue being a willow
Without pretense of being something else
Of being a pine, of being a maple, of being an oak

They said the willow should have been like the oak
But wasn't the oak tree growing upside down?
Turned top over to meet the world's standards
Can you see that they are wrong?
The day of the oak tree, growing downward
Is gone and overcome by a better day
A day of love for life and willows being themselves