-- Wind in the Willows --
John Herlihy
The wind always silent,
It’s the trees that sound.
Leaf and branch compliant,
Echoing whispers profound.
The wind always invisible,
Hear what we never see.
Whispers and roars audible,
Caressing the wings of a bee.
The daffodil bows its head,
The waving of tropical palms.
The heart of the rose bled,
Grasses sing sacred psalms.
Behold wind in the willows,
Uplifted arms flowing lace.
Light, not air, in its billows,
Rocking in rhythmic grace.
The stars ever so cold,
Yet whisper of mystery.
With a message bold,
In the distance, infinity.
The clocks tick the hour,
Time measures eternity.
Sun awakens the flower,
To unfold its inner beauty.
Some dreams will appear,
When they finally arrive.
There on the tip of a spear
No longer able to survive.
Other dreams never appear,
Only there in the mind thrive.
Killed by the force of despair,
Bereft of any spirit still alive.
Dreams appear on night’s plate,
Filling the cave of our slumber.
To lose reality in the waking state,
Bereft of its magical wonder.
Ocean waves crash upon the shore,
Delicate seabirds flit across the sand.
Thrilling our hearts down to the core,
Nature fashioned by the Divine Hand.
- - - - - -
Copyright ©John Herlihy
Wednesday 22 March 2023
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Love ya!
Jane
John, that weeping willow is almost beyond description. I love them, regardless of their out-of-control root system. When my wife and I drove through Northern Michigan once, we both marveled at the beauty of their willow trees. Although we see a nice one occasionally in our parts, never do we see them that compare with this. That being said, this poem’s beauty is like all the others you’ve written—perfection throughout. Here are a few of my favorite lines: Caressing the wings of a bee, Grasses sing sacred psalms, Uplifted arms flowing lace, Rocking in rhythmic Grace, In the distance, infinity, Killed by the force of despair, and Nature fashioned by the Divine Hand. Thank you for sharing your unique talent with us. 👏👏👏
David Lee Thompson
I think your poem would have been better just stopping with the wind. Instead of going on to dreams and the sea. And I disagree with the first line where you say the wind is silent. Maybe you haven't been in a hurricane where the wind howls like a banshee. Or in a tornado where survivors describe the sound of a train coming.
Ron