The weeping willow.
The weeping willow….
Once we held love over all things. Love was holy and you were a blessing and a gift.
Now like sleeping flower in the Winter. My feeble heart had forgotten the days and night of bliss and passion filled nights.
In a deadly silence, I do pray. I pray for the sleeping flower to come alive again.
“We Poets in our youth begin with gladness, but there of in the end despondency and madness” Wordworth
Now bereft memory seek things disappeared in the lost and found.
Maybe love support to die?
Whence love came will love fall, once whispered a ancient Poet.
I sit by the weeping willow, praying to Lake St. Clair for understanding.
Now blind thoughts leave the heart bleeding . Maybe forbidden love is the foretold place for the yearning heart.
I told the weeping willow. Love alive is better than love dead.
Maybe we need private dances and secret kisses?
I asked the weeping willow tree. Who is wrong and who is wrong?
Can lost love be rebirth in the Spring?
I know take two to tangle and one to forget love.
The rain begin to fall softly on Lake St. Clair and old Poet cried and die with the gentle rain.
John Castellenas/Coyote
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you my friend.
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Really enjoyed this profound, thoughtful and insightful poem John. Also thanks for introducing me to The Loose Strings Band. A double whammy.
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Thank you dear Sue for reading and the comment. The band is amazing.
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Reblogged this on Commentary, Outrages, Prose and Poetry and commented:
John Coyote does it again, unsurprisingly so. But this time I note a new name: John Castellenas/Coyote. Mil gracias, sir.
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Why am I so unsurprised, John Castellenas/Coyote? Thank you so much for this and the many others by which you grace us. J Richards
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Hello my friend and thank you for reading and the comment.
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My pleasure, John. I have been missing, inaction, rather, though now it appears not only is my unmasking tolerated as well as by staff condoned in my branch of county library; but also my access has gone back to a three-hour timelimit, vice the previous 60 minutes. I have not told on myself: I have access to a min. two more numerical identities should I so require. This place remains mortuary-minded – dead. Where are all the summerkids parked these days? I pay taxes. I’ll take my air cold, please, and my books coming near daily. Good to read your work, my friend. Be well and clip Happy on the back as you pass en route to ecstatic. J
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Hello my friend. I miss the library too. Had a good writers group. I like to write at the library. More room, less mess. Almost over. Looking forward to norm.
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We got hit at our county’s North Branch library; After a week of close, finally tented and fumigated. I pressed for answers: told by the person fielding the phone: “Yes. We know. But I am not allowed to tell anyone why.”
Well, it’s open again – and I agree, less mess and more room.
The reason: Bed Bugs…told sub rosa…. even in the ‘puters. Reading Sara A. Hoyt’s “A Few Good Men” re: information control. Serendip(sp?) strikes again?
Be well, John. J
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In Michigan. Suppose be open 100%. Library should be norm again. Have some fun and stay safe my friend.
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