I sit beneath the willow tree
      And wonder if it weeps for me,
      It’s branches dropping greenish tears,
      That won’t be back until next year.

      Oh, little tree, do you always know
      That in the Spring you’ll start to grow
      And clothe yourself in gowns of green
      Suitable to dress a queen?

      I wonder if you suffer now
      From loss that wrinkles up your boughs
      Or do you stand steadfast, serene
      Against the cold that is extreme?

      As you brave the winds that lash your sides,
      Do you openly invite those tides 
      Of onslaught for you know at last
      That winter will again be past?

      There’s something I should gain from this.
      I think I hear your whispered kiss
      That tells me just to stand up tall
      And sway my trunk so I don’t fall.

      Too stiff, unbending I will break.
      I must relent for both our sakes,
      So I begin to sway and bend
      Until our troubles find an end.

      Yes, little tree, I see you weep,
      But tears of joy that you can’t keep.
      You know the secret of life’s theme:
      That we must never give up our dreams! 

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