Lying on the trampoline
feeling the warmth of the sun
a light breeze grazes my cheek
ruffling my hair,
listening to the calls of the crickets to one another,
they are all so chatty.
Feeling the sensations of late summer
before the fall,
I open my eyes
looking at the sky
wispy clouds here and there,
the cattails sway,
it's almost a dance,
a slow dance
with a gentle breeze for a partner.
Sitting I can's help but
think how majestic the willow is.
Blown down in a storm
out of the stump that was left
it grew to where it is now.
Watching the branches sway
I think of wild horses running
their manes and tails all movement.
Sometimes I look at the willow
thinking of a grand cathedral
with curtains blowing in the
open windows.
I missed the willow
when it was blown down.
Grieving for the beauty of
its movements,
desiring to see
its movements again,
waiting for it to grow tall
again,
so I can enjoy it.