The Weeping Willow Wept Its Last (but it’s song lives on…..)

The cutters drone on and on into the warm afternoon, a sound that holds a message, for those who will hear it.

Something has gone too far, life daring to grow, to move outside of the very small confines it has been allotted. You will have this space and no more.

The moment you stretch out of your invisible boundary, an alarm triggers somewhere in a dark office, something needs taking in hand.

Send the blades come out, you must be kept in line, you must know your place, you cannot be allowed to breathe and spread.

You thought you were a wild thing, free, but you were wrong; a small, neat, moulded shape is all you are allowed.

Dare to break your programming; you saw what happened to the tree, the weeping willow, that softly grew and grew,

widened, dancing, filling the air with its lulling sighs, spreading its arms, home to hundreds of creatures,

it went beyond what was deemed acceptable, it went too far, was too big, it shed its leaves, it’s roots spread…..what was it thinking??

So they came in the shadows of early morning, by light it was gone, before anyone could whisper, stop.

The beautiful sighs as the wind spoke through it, silenced, the small animals, birds and insects that called it home, lost.

Just a big, empty soulless space, neat and proper, untroublesome, unthreatening, uninspiring,that is acceptable.

Everything is better now.  A tamed space, controlled and dominated.

Know your limits. Otherwise they will cut you down.

But still the trees grow. Are you listening????






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  1. Splendid. The reality and the analogy are perfectly harmonious. The reasoning solid as stone. I quite enjoyed. I read it thrice for my pleasure.

    • Thanks, I’m so pleased you liked it.It had been mulching round my head for quite a while, then it collided with another event and they just fit together, I had to write about them.
      Thanks for sharing it, I was touched by that.
      I really miss that tree, the space still makes me so sad.

  2. The warning arrives as a drone. And I now think death from the sky delivered by dispassionate decision when a newscast drops that word casually. For these cutters it’s a paycheck for a livelihood that must never be questioned. Drone your mind to dispatch the critical thought. There’s one, there’s another. Out damned thought.Press the trigger on the chainsaw and get the job done.
    I weep and watch for the dread drone deed to be done.

    • Thanks for leaving that!! Impressive, powerful words. I liked them a lot, I’ve read them many times.

      • Thank you for the genuinely kind words. My heart found recognition and empathy in the drama. Poetry is best at transporting the reader directly to the intent of the poet. And metaphor is the Greek word for transport. So the willow metaphored me there. Just such a magical willow lived and shared its fellowship next door to my childhood home.
        So you have inspired me to continue writing on
        Fortunately, our weeping willow lived into old age 🙂
        Looking forward to reading more here. I really like the name *outsidersinsides* too.

      • You are very welcome, your words are very powerful and evocative. You really must continue writing, I hope you do… If I have in any way inspired you, then I am humbled and gladdened by that!!
        You are so lucky to have your willow for so long, I still miss mine, I still feel a real heat-wrenching sadness when I pass the empty spot where it grew. I managed to retrieve a small stump that had got lost in the grass and escaped the grinding machine, so I have a tiny piece of it forvever with me, but I would rather the tree still lived. Thanks for reading.

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