Moon Mother, guardian of night’s mystery,
Softly awaits dawn’s transfiguring glory.
Recasting despair into light,
languor into curiosity,
Moon Mother propels his barren branches
Into a web of celestial magic
Angry Tree’s big boned branches
reach high into the heavens,
Catching the holy spirit of a
newborn Warrior Tree,
At last donning his coat of verdant spring finery,
He guards the pregnant pines below,
while tree maidens swish flowery skirts upon the breeze.