I am more than a tree,
And the shadow which I cast.
Each season of good deeds,
Etched upon my rings within.
Whilst hurt and sorrow scar,
Deep and dark, as gnarled bark.
Joyful times, love and light,
Nourish my sweet nymph.
In my winter and despair,
She withers with my leaves.
But this love never takes to breeze,
We have kept our solemn vow.
All nature, intent and accident,
Have crafted who I am.
Today I’m reaching to the sun,
Tomorrow as logs to make toast?
Do not judge me by a single fruit,
But the journey since my seed was dropped.