The Tale of a Tree

My back is a willow tree bending in the woods farther than it can, naturally.  I sit erect and correct.  I see the melody in the leaves I spread on the ground with the dances of the wind.  I can see that I need.  It is difficult for me.  Mostly, I sit quiet and still to just be another tree.  Why do they take my beautiful branches and make whips with them?  I never gave that permission or command.  Shall I just give up for the winter and begin anew next spring?  Whatever happens, I will still be a tree.  No amputation for me.  Listen to the howl and know that, in my mind's eye, I have survived much worse in a place that should have been heaven.  Walk away from me now.  I have no more shelter or energy to give.