Happy Christmas everyone.
In childhood days when I was low there was a tree to whom I’d go
And spill my heart of all its woes but that was many years ago.
When sorrow choked me thick and dark I’d rest my face against its bark
My tears would trickle salty wet, it never told a secret yet.
Its roots they stretched out wide and deep they even reached into my sleep
Id dream of days beneath its shade and picnics in that sheltered glade
Where stretched upon the grass I’d lie and see the fragments of the sky
Between the leaves the clouds would race, the sun would show its golden face
Id think of all the lives it’s seen; the hopes the loves and shattered dreams
Around the tree the world would turn but never of its wisdom learn.
If I go back I’d only see an old and blackened maple tree – a hole is where its heart should be
For lightning cleft it right in twain, the tree was neer the same again
But still in dreams and memory clear it grows and flowers every year
It gives me solace when I’m weak, though tears now dry upon my cheek.