Letter From a Weeping Willow

 

Dear You, All Grown Up:

We were young together. And now? We are old, apart. I was happy to give you shelter in our early years. It was endearing that you often tried to comfort me. My name, The Weeping Willow, led you to believe I was crying. Only as you grew did you realize my downward bend represented flexibility, not sorrow. 

I whispered many truths to you in the moments you leaned against my trunk.

- Spirituality is rooted but never fenced.

- Leaves fall and they still have important work to do.

- In between climbing, swinging and always trying to fly, time to pause and rest matters.

All trees teach listening. You gave me the chance to do what I was put on earth to do. In that way you were shelter to me. You were a willing student in childhood and I am grateful to observe that you continue to learn.

I know that there’ll come a time, time away from now, that we will again be shelter to one another. Until then, keep deepening those roots as well as your capacity to listen.

Ever flexible and ever will I be,

Your Weeping  Willow

- mary anne em radmacher©

#CourageDoesn'tAlwaysRoar

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