The Willow or The Oak?

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