Life has gone from the old dead tree
Lights extinguished, curtains drawn.
Who cares, or feels, or wants to see
The reason for me to mourn
Its passing, an ordinary tree, just one
Of thousands in the cast.
Part of nature's plan begun
In mists and clouds of aeons past.
Feathered friends remember now.
A bough where songs were sung
In winter warmth and sunshine glow,
And home to fledge their young.
For death provides a space to grow.
Where life will start anew.
Eternal cycles ebb and flow
Where the old dead tree once grew.