One Woman's Heart

My willow tree is all alone.
Limbs, protective of its trunk,
like a waterfall and its cave,

when the lightening tries to strike
it down. Thunder growls from high
above and rain like teardrops

fall from the branches,
back and forth, side to side,
Hail pounds at it, and a tornado

tries to rip it out. Then when it's
all over, the sun shines bright
and my weeping willow stands strong.