Joy V. Sheridan writes

The Willow Child

Willow wept,  
But underneath that billowing edge 
Stood a small child, 
A little one who posed stationary 
With an all-clear vision in his blue eyes.

‘Oh: Who are thou?’ 
Asks the voice of age, 
‘Turn the leaf and find a new page; 
I am the spirit of waters so wild.’

Now spoke that little child: 
‘Into the realms of water I go 
Testing ice, frost and snow 
Who as you know 
Have an element of such stuff 
As I am made of.’

Then, with fingers two 
This enchanted infant called forth a mist of dew 
And in a double arc 
Rainbow colours were released.

So there proclaimed was 
This book of life – Pure Peace!

--Deborah Jane Milton