Carved Under My Own Shade

I’m a witness of so many memories

Souls came to me when the sun is dazzling.

Always there, like I was carved into forever—

a shade of grief.

Everyone loved the way my long, green, slender branches look.

But I was in sorrow.

No soul ever cherished the sorrow in my tears.

Everyone came for my shade.

I have seen people adoring my branches but only I know the longing in hiding them.

Once a little girl came running into my arms

“Dad! Mom! Look it’s a weeping willow tree”

“Oh, how beautiful you are!” she said, her eyes full of love, her rosy cheeks blushing, her long hair that she kept in a bun.

I gave her a shade.

She can’t take her eyes off me.

I can’t stop moving my branches, giving her the chills.

She leaned for a tight hug, as I hold her tighter into my long arms.

I felt her warmth into my soul.

She said, “Thank you for giving me your shade.”

Her words melted into me—

like a candle melt when it’s fired,

like a snowflake melts into flesh,

like an ice melts when sun is bright,

like a baby melts into their mother’s hands.

She said, “I hope we meet again!”

My hopeless branches started dancing in hope.

Hoping for love.

Hoping to be remembered.

Hoping to dance in the wind,

To love myself the way she loved me.

Hoping in faith.

Hoping the moon would see me dancing in the dark night.

Hope…hoping she would come back to me.

“I knew it was impossible— we were not meant to be, yet I still waited, hoping.”