The Willow at the Borderlands/ Saille (ᚄ) – Willow
Where the silver river flows into still pond,
The willow leans with arms outspread.
Its roots dig deep, branches stretch long—
For they weep where mortals dare not tread.

It grows where veils are thinnest worn,
Where twilight bleeds into fairie space.
The glade half-mooned, the dusk reborn,
A threshold kissed by faerie grace.

Willow’s trunk bends, sways, and sweeps
As she sings in voices not her own.
To sleep beneath her is to sleep
Where dreams are freed when flesh is gone.

The Seelie meet here, crowned in dew,
By mirrored pool with willow wand.
They cast no shadow, pass right through
To glens that bloom beyond the pond.

They come when moonlight stirs the heart,
When harpstrings ring from root to crown.
Their laughter shivers through the dark,
Then stills to draw the dreamer down.

A tea of willow shapes the dream,
And bends the truth through second sight.
The bark once steeped will calm with steam
All grief, and guide your soul to light.

But should you wake with tears on skin,
And tangled hair from faerie breeze,
You’ve wandered past what lies within—
You’ve crossed the path between the trees.

Some say the willow keeps the names
Of every soul who touched her face.
Each echo held in water-frames,
Souls now lost in timeless place.

So come to visit, but do not stay.
The willow does not guard for long.
She grants the vision, leads the way—
But not all hearts belong in song.