Lonesome tree,
Left to stand in a field of green.

You are as free as free can be, at least as much as a tree can be.

You’re the sole survivor of a proud oak line,
And the tallest timber I’ve ever seen in this area of the countryside.

Only you have lived long enough to see the red sunrise.
The lidless moon and the eye of the storm sent by the sea.

It baffles me, that you a tree, would watch over a farmer and his family.
Your rightful and natural enemy, who pushes the plow beneath your feet.

Surrounded by a society which cuts down all of your company,
Just to build and sow with lesser seeds.  

And yet you, the mightiest of trees, refuse to pack up root and leave?
Refuse to let yourself be twisted by the progress of humanity.

Why are you doing this?

I guess no greater love exists,
Than to share your shade with your enemies.

Thank you for this, oh lonesome tree,
You are a symbol of life to me.