Father Willow of towering strength
Leans out at the lakeside edge
Holding firm above the water,
His tendrils sweep upon the surface
Despite missing limbs and precarious balance.

Mother Willow stands more erect close by,
Less tall and of lighter hue,
In arboreal communion she radiates her beauty
Rustling in harmony with the wind,
Welcoming visitors from air, earth and water.

Fresh Young Willow, beside the pair,
Has many twists and turns to go,
Straight, still overshadowed and protected
Yet reaching up and out,
Learning to balance at the water’s edge.

I stand within their geometry
Enjoying their majesty, listening to interplay,
Watching them dance in rippled reflection.
No weeping here! Mother Nature’s wonder
Is entwined within their holy number.

Editor’s Choice Award, January 2007, poetry.com.