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