They say you’re a tree not a person,

You’re not flesh and bone you are wood.

But the things that we like make us joyful

And joy is a gift borne of love.

 

They say that your limbs are but timber

And instead of a skin you have bark,

But I hear  your voice on the wind’s breath

And I feel your pulse in my heart.

 

They say in this life there’s a season

And a time when the hour is nigh

And always they say there’s a reason

Why all things that flourish should die.

 

They say that a tree cannot suffer

That a trunk can’t feel anguish and pain

But I see but blood where the sap flows,

And I’ve touched your vibes in your frame.

 

They say that you don’t have a spirit

But come the day your life must end.

forgive me my tears, I mourn not the tree –

But the death of a long-standing friend.

 

Gillian Walsh