Christian
The Rowan Tree In the shade of Grandpa’s house There stood a rowan tree Which my Brother tried to climb With Rosalyn and me Every day my Grandpa came Admired it´s towering boughs While we as children playing there Saw darkened twigs and crows Shadows hung upon his life With towering darkened power Which we as children plain could see In every passing hour Its leaves held back the sunshine light Its branches stern with years Sitting with his chair and pipe It calmed away his fears Yet we as children playing in sight Saw only twigs and leaves Revealing more, the sky to us Than he could ever see We pointed up at shafts of light Throughout the darkened power Still he preferred the shaded glade To pass the wakened hour We saw sun and endless days while on his chair he sat Despite the passing years it stood The tree was sound at heart And habit, ritual, lack of ease Played heavy on his mind Despite the sky and all it's Truth His peace he could not find And now we men with passing years Do seek our tree, to hide A cooling shade from burning Truth A shelter from the sky