With branches bolts of tinder
And leaves to hide the Moon
The sacred cedar globed the grove
Without an inch of hope
A pyramid of sadness
That prayed to stars at night
In outstretched emerald limbs
To be uprooted and laid to rest
In the woodlands of paradise.
It was the tallest and strongest
The haunt for deadly birds
Who drew passion off its hate
The hate that grew in its sap
Was once rivulets of love
Enthralling it to climb the air
And canoe the clouds passing by
It climbed and climbed
Higher and higher
But came up short
To claim the magic of sky
A disappointment it could not take
For the song of truth was so fair.

The truth that captured its vein
Was but an epiphany of pain
Its monument remains a stump
As Love's riddle's type.