The Lady’s Tree

Here on this spot five thousand years ago,

A Lady knelt and wept,

Tears soaked the barren ground

Before it started to grow

Wider and taller, twisting and turning

The lady knelt aghast,

Before her stood a regal tree

Deep presence burning.

The tree sighed, shook, then spoke

With a voice akin to hers,

“I know what troubles haunt you so,”

“For I am more than pine, maple, or oak.”

The Lady arose and touched the tree

With a soft and gentle hand,

She found her voice and asked it then

“What are you, bright tree, if more than those you be?”

The tree was warm and answered, voice devoid of scorn

“I am Myth, Weeping One,”

“I feel your want, courage, and despair,”

“But most of all, I feel your grief, by which your heart is torn.”

The lady lowered her head, and nodded to the earth

“You are right, my grief is strong,”

“Although I can’t bear it, I am Alone.”

“I am afraid I will forever be and have been since my Birth.”

The tree was touched by the lady’s words

A decision it had made

To bind themselves together

To free the Lady from her loneliness, to forever live with the tree.

The Lady agreed, stepping closer still

And put her arms around it,

As the bark closed around her.

They grew to a forest, with river and hill.

The earth became rich and pure

The water shone with glee

The birds chirped and sang

The air was filled with magic, strong and sure.

The Myth Wood rose, became a land

Blessed with beauty

Devoid of death

Woe it did not remain, as the sands of time flows by.

Though not as pure, Myth remains Myth,

Now our home, beloved and sacred.

Though like the wood, war torn and scarred.

The people are firm, strong, and brave

 

This is the tale of the birth of the Myth Wood

Let us not forget its roots.

For through a Maiden’s sorrow

The Lady Tree has stood.

Fen’ Alfar poem

Middle 3rd age