Where the tree once stood I had tear-eyed grasped
The meaning of the lord’s love bird song’s rasp
Of a squirrel perhaps or cat hunt’s paws
The wonder of life through my balcony’s doors

But blunt axe to the temple of my soul’s firm mast
And priest’s plight for a penny having left me aghast
Of my crucifix past and the blood that it drained
Son of Man perhaps and spirit thrice refrained

Back to myth and conception misconception was made
And my tree was no more but church’s coffers were laid
Through my balcony doors bells but birdsong no more
Love was once in the air now its sermons galore