You come to me in the midst of the storms maze
With daggers and swords ready to fight through the haze
Not realizing the storm has been brewing some time
Wanting your words to be heard but not listening to mine
As if I am an ancient, wise old oak tree
With a trunk so solid and big as can be
So strong, so invincible, all knowing in view
Taking on all the turmoil those winds can brew
I feel the burden like a willow’s weeping limbs
Heavy with rain and snow all over again
As if it isn’t enough heavy a sack
I feel that monkey you’ve thrown on my back
Those words you wish to share with me
On deaf ears have fallen you see
The weight of the rain, the snow and the ice
Won’t allow me to hear what you’ve shouted out twice
Pulling my limbs close within my little trunk
Putting off the scent of the frightened little skunk
I nurture my soul, my spirit and all
And softly begin your words to recall
Quietly I realize you had lots to say
Time has allowed down my burdens to lay
Enough to feel the clearness of the sense in it all
And to say I hear you, I hear your call
Speak firmly but gently and express yourself well
You never know when it will break the spell
That shatters your picture of the oak you see
And allows instead the picture of the weeping willow tree
