Willow Weeping

Embraced in the arms of a weeping willow,
the sky begins to open up again.
Gone are the clouds of grey,
replaced by a baby blue skyline.
Birds chirp,
bees buzz,
the sun radiates.
A light breeze rocks my willow’s branches from side to side.
Despite the bliss this earth has to offer,
my willow is always weeping.
♠ ♠ ♠
This poem is about over coming depression, but still having it linger around you.