My Willow Daughter

She flaunts her baroque beauty in plush happy laughter

natural and pleasant in plus size greetings of gaudy greenness

a woman in lush Gothic embellishments of exuberant, self-

confident interacting with all of God’s other creations,

imposing her innocent, infectious cachinnations

soulfully leading the conversations that fills

the entire ambiance in this universe room of the delights

in Nature .

Everyone, including the birds and the bees, wants to be around her.

To sing in her presence, smile in her company, and gossip about her,

And the Wind and Sun ― her two suitors.

Some days she dances in the arms of the Wind,

whose breezy sweet talking whispering words

invites her to sing to their comfortably choreograph motions.

As the dance and dance through circles of seasons

Gently, affectionately, in harmony,

With their chorus of friends.

On other days she hums in unison with the Sun,

In whose warm arms she radiates, in the harmonious company

With the same chorus of friends. He always

beams at the sight of her, and touch her face gently looking

at him through his rays of kisses.

  

Seemed like just yesterday

she was this fragile infant tree-child

in need of nourishments, water

and protection against diseases

and the elements.

I still see in her the tiny, vulnerable, baby-seedling

I brought  home from the nursery

I still remember the many worrisome days of strong storms,

thunder and lightening, blizzards, freezing ice crystals.

Now look at her! All grown up.

Yet, I still worry.

Parents tend to do that!