15. The Willow
I am a willow,
Bending and swaying in His breeze.
East or West,
I am His,
Bending and swaying to His Will.
However the winds of fortune may blow, the Willow bends but does not break. Alas, I am not so. I am too rigid sometimes, too faithful to my years-old habits. I have been toppled and uprooted many times by fate. But fortunately, someone always comes around, heaving my fat trunk upwards and heavenwards once again. Then they gently set my roots back into the earth, and they would whisper to my bough and branch, "Now, please... try to be a bit more grounded. And if the wind blows ill again, please... be more bendable!"
I thank my handlers for caring for me this way. I wish I was not so much trouble for the gardeners of the Garden of Creation. Already, the grass, the flowers and shrubbery know my name and my fame. '"That rigid old oak!" they would gossip amongst themselves. I hope, as days go by, I shall give them less reason to gossip about me.
So have a bendable day, sunshine. Don't be too rigid like me.
wa min Allah at-taufiq.