Paradox

Upon my porch I sit
Wrapped in the morning melody
Birds, breezes, cicadas
Singing in perfect harmony

Weeping willow in full array
Swaying with the tune
Sunbeams dance upon her
Tiny lights, a multitude

Yet the oak leaves are not shimmering
Nor the elms, nor the figs
Only the weeping willow
Displays one thousand glitterings

Tears perhaps, is she crying?
Yet her display is not of gloom
Rather tiny sparkles glistening
Tears of God renewed

Splendor of hope
Upon the weeping willow

judithpiper
july 4, 2007

***

Not much need for explanation. The prose simply describes that July morning that I wrote the poem as I sat upon my back porch. The weeping willow was the only tree that glittered in the sunlight, the leaves still damp from a gentle rain or dew. A breeze lightly danced the leaves, and thus the shimmerings.

Tears are our friends.

In the wee hours of today, February 25, 2010, this poem comes to mind as I listen to a Leonard Cohen song, "Hallelujah," sung by K.D. Lang. {Thank you Chris.}

Perhaps the song brought this poem to mind because love (and life) can be such a paradox.