The Weeping Willow Poem by T. R. Crissian

Wind blows ore the valley and rushes through trees,
It never stops,
It blows and whistles by,
It sings such a song of beauty it will make you cry.

And as you weep,
The wind hath found what it doth seek,
A small seed,
Deep down within the earth,
And as the wind begins to leave,
You cry out not wanting it to leave.

So you run,
Follow and run after it,
Until you right over that seed,
And the as the wind sings a song anew,
Fall like snow onto that bit of land,
Your tears afresh,
Oh,
Oh so soft like sand.

A single tear did fall,
And as the earth drank it in,
It soaked into that seed and it grew,
Oh how it grew!
Tall but twisted,
Beautiful but sad.

It weeps everyday because of that tear,
And its boughs swish back and forth,
Everyday,
Yes everyday of its year.

The wind sways it,
And it cries its own tears.
No need for rain,
Or clouds,
No,
For this tree is the weeping willow.

. By: T. R. Crissian
A myth is a myth that can become truth if the truth shall switch to become that myth that is now the truth.