I painted the tree in my yard
The kind of tree where gold could be buried
The kind of place where people could get married
I painted the tree in my yard
I see grandeur and gesture in trees
Ancient humans instilled in these
Silent witness if you please
Embraced, caressed by their leaves
There must be other trees with wiser beings
Older souls and their seeings
I have found my tree of life
Painted here with a pallet knife
Nodding to the coming day
When one of us goes away
And one of us should remain
Should remain