Cut down like a happy old oak,
and what a shame it could not stay
and share its gifts
with those of us who crave
the comfort of such shade,
the fortune of familiar things,
the the beauty of its green,
which last through winter's storms.

But Daddy's tree had something else
to say.
You see, it seemed to be dead,
and at the head of his grave,
still speaking for the loss
of a giant tree.
A gentle giant conversing
with the prayerful crowd.
It said, "I too am dead,
to honor your father's truth."
One of many.