In ancient Celt astrology
I am a weeping willow tree
Like Brigid and Persephone
From winter I am emerging
My flowers they are remedies
For bitterness and jealousy
My wood into this world is weaved
In housing humans, fairies, bees
I'm beautiful, melancholy
With bending limbs and lilting leaves
Well known for my intuity
I help you remember your dreams
Divining rods are made from me
My bark is used medicinally
If removed from my roots I can
Regenerate and thrive on land
I'm flexible, resilient
A lunar love for mortal men
