Willow and Other Poems
by Danielle Robbins
WILLOW
The other day I found myself
in a field surrounded by tall grass and willow trees.
I felt the wind whisper on my cheek
as if gently kissing my soul awake.
I watched the birds fly high above the treetops,
circling here and there.
Some landed to soak in the sun,
some sang sweet songs,
and some flew off on to some other adventure.
Yet I stood still.
I closed my eyes, and I opened my arms,
and allowed myself
to take up space in this world—
to sing my song
and embrace the journey ahead—
just as the birds take flight
and the willow stands resolute,
uninhibited and wholly my own.
PAPER HEARTS
I made paper hearts and hung them on my walls.
One for every day I learned to love myself a little more.
One for every time I let go of all the things that no longer served me—
until the walls were full,
until every inch showed me all the ways I was loved.
And how all the ways I had once thought l was broken became all the reasons I was whole.
MUNDANE
I am falling in love with the mundane—
with the slower pace of life.
Like how the light shines through the window in the morning.
Or the slumbering dog beside me,
whose chest slowly rises and falls,
as he’s lost in some dream.
I close my eyes:
letting the tenderness of nothingness envelope me,
breathing in the simplicity of here,
and exhaling out the broken bits I no longer wish to carry.
I feel the earth settle underneath me:
stillness resides here now—
it’s the very essence of my bones.
And urgency no longer runs through my weary veins,
and the world is no longer a spinning blur around me.