The weeping willow held many secrets, many of which only a select few are allowed to know. Those who are worthy must have faith.
Not in God, but the universe. An ongoing faith which assures you would visit the willow every week in hope of collecting any knowledge allegedly held within her bark. Something which doesn't command your complete devotion - in recognition of your free will.
Perhaps, she shall tell you about the dancing man?
He who balances energy in favor of the peace of "other". The certainty of different, the promise of remembering. The choice to make a footprint in the path of history.
One to the side,
Not contained within the veins of a bandwagon. Borne upon the communities of "truth".
YOU ARE READING
Cottagecore thoughts ~ Sort Of Poetry
PoetryThis is just full of thoughts related to the version of me that lives in a cottage in a small village with my best friend. Some poetry some songs idk whats happening tbh.
