Tom Lyne Bassist

Humans are not like trees

I am in the most incredible place,
A little land with a delicate tree or two,
The sun is coy and scarce and sometimes shines,
And slaps me in the face with warm truth.

My glasses tumble off and break,
My face burns from the slap,
As quickly as it came it is gone again,
And left in me the taste of careful pain.

I look about as if this was a dream,
Glasses gone; the hills, the sea, the sounds, all a-blur.
But better yet to let me look around
the warm and careful truth and pain I see.

A life gets lost and that’s not tragedy.
Back and forth the waves persist and trees grow old,
Our clothes wear out, our homes and loves,
Mature, get wise, get cracks and settle.

The sun is coy and scarce and sometimes shines,
And always feeds us everything we need.
And nothing here in any way invokes of tragedy,
Like humans can, how some will treat the others.

Tom Lyne 17/09/2016