Willows and Wandering Souls

By the waters grows a willow,
Whose slender waving branches caress the softly blowing air.
It whispers, beckons, calls to me. Calling across the worlds it speaks.
It calls to me and others, bringing us under its canopy.
Life and Death meet under its swaying boughs.
It tells us stories, legends, myths.
It reveals our ancient past.
Under its mighty influence Death and Life both fade away...
What is left?
We, the wandering souls.