The Consciousness of Willows
Sometimes when I sit quiet by the river
I can hear them among the dizzy buzz
Of insects, the white noise of flowing water,
Not songs exactly, unvoiced thoughts,
Of greenness reaching towards the sun,
For roiling water of spring floods,
The thrash of rushing waves washing into
Eddylines writhing with debris and driftwood,
For graceful bending, roots in damp sand
Sinking intentions deep to hold on tight;
They reach up to beckon songbirds
Invited to perch on swaying branches,
In return for keeping down the pests,
They contemplate the reedy heron who fishes
In calm still water slenderly disguised
By its supple willow-like neck
Until it rises on startled wings, unmoored,
Without disappointment, joy or sadness
They hold fast to water, Earth and sky
Though they acknowledge nothing but willowness.
To read more of Amy’s poetry, click the image below:
“Simple Chaos 6 Revisited” (2010) by Sandy Brunvand. Visit Sandy’s website at http://www.sandybrunvand.com/.
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