There is a tree
Whose trunk is so thin
She can hardly hold herself upright.
Her leaves are free
To fall, their descent akin
To the tears angels do not fight.
Her branches reach to the sea
Above her head with chagrin-
She’ll never touch, try as she might.
There is a moon
Whose face is so pleasant-
She is what all desire.
Her light is a boon.
She is a present
The tree wants to acquire.
Her end is soon-
She is inconstant-
Rebirthed by nature’s call.
There is an evergreen
Whose life was uprooted.
Then he neighbored the tree.
Where he now stands
He needles the tree,
Their branches entwined.
She does not mind.
He is a friend.
He is a love.
His beauty offsets her naked limbs.
His bark shines with health she has never known.
His scent is of sweet pine.
With him by her side
Holding her up toward the sky
The tree does not need the moon.
She is home.
Whose trunk is so thin
She can hardly hold herself upright.
Her leaves are free
To fall, their descent akin
To the tears angels do not fight.
Her branches reach to the sea
Above her head with chagrin-
She’ll never touch, try as she might.
There is a moon
Whose face is so pleasant-
She is what all desire.
Her light is a boon.
She is a present
The tree wants to acquire.
Her end is soon-
She is inconstant-
Rebirthed by nature’s call.
There is an evergreen
Whose life was uprooted.
Then he neighbored the tree.
Where he now stands
He needles the tree,
Their branches entwined.
She does not mind.
He is a friend.
He is a love.
His beauty offsets her naked limbs.
His bark shines with health she has never known.
His scent is of sweet pine.
With him by her side
Holding her up toward the sky
The tree does not need the moon.
She is home.
