Millicent and the Willow Tree

Weeping willow tree in my neighborhood. I took the photo while standing in the middle of the street. The video below displays the spiral arrangement of the leaves and catkins (cylindrical flowers) along one of the branches.

Gorgeous you are—magnificent.
          Why, thank you kindly, Millicent.
Dressed up in a green ballgown,
yet unmistakably looking...
          Down?
I'm glad YOU said it—I was afraid.
          No need to fear, I'm not eas'ly dismayed.
Why are you sad, then, why do you bend?
          Why assume that I'm sad 'cause my branches descend?
Forgive me, dear Willow, if I spoke out of turn.
          I'll tell you more if you're ready to learn.
I'm ready to listen if you want to liaise.
         Very well, I'll begin, then you can appraise.

Look at the ground beneath your feet,
The hard gray substance you call "concrete".
My feet can stretch past where you are,
To locate water near and far;
They anchor me in wind and storm,
Exchange great treasures with and inform
Both the elder maple and the young hawthorn,
So that no one ever feels forlorn.
I know you're struck by what's overt,
But my greatest work's done in the dirt.
THAT'S the reason I point down—
My feet are the ones who wear the crown.

           There's so much that I didn't know
           About the world that lives below!
           I'm thankful that you took the time
           To gently shift my paradigm.

Come closer. I have one more thing
To show you, since we've entered spring.
Behold my leaves and catkins green,
The way they spiral, twirl, and preen.
What say you now about my mood? 

          I say I mistakenly misconstrued!