The Song of the Trees
Down by the river
Just a furlong away
There stand two strong trees
beckoning you to sit in their shade.
There are stories written
On their trunks
And if you press your ear against their roots
You can hear the drums.
If you raise your head to the leaves
That shimmer and dance in the wind
They will whisper a song to you
If you have the patience to hear them sing.
This land was once
The greatest we’ve seen
With muscular men
And women who’d lead.
This land, you see
Was the greatest
With renowned bravehearts
Who achieved every conquest.
Oh, this land! This land we were born from
The people deserted it all!
They called it old
Left their homes to fall.
Oh, this land! This land so glorious before
But for us, the ones who detest change
The tales will live on,
In the murmuring mist,
The dew studded webs
We shall keep singing it’s lore.
And when nothing but our stumps are left
When our wood has been carried away
When this land goes bereft
Of it’s true citizens who laughed and played
We shall sing on
Under the ground, in the murmur of the stream
This land will never die
It is a promise, a vow we made,
That this land shall flourish
Even though it may not be seen.