We Cry Hearing The Two Trees

We cry hearing The Two Trees,
 holy poem, sacred song.
Tree to glass, glass to tree,
  divided knowing right and wrong.
Visions ancient breathe in me,

  music, voice, violin, 

barrenness and leafy green,

  loves vibrations from within.

The sun, cherishing our earth,
  sees us shining in the night,
shining still though demons old,
  feast on casting out our light.
We know not who we are,
  what a tree or flower is,
as we search beyond the stars
  as we wonder where God is.
Tree to tree and rose to rose,
  born from heaven's rumbling seas.
Wind to wind melody flows.
  We cry hearing The Two Trees.

In the mirror in gazing thought,
  what is it you really see?
Temporary in glass caught,
 beloved heart, it is not thee.
As the past with solid roots
  means to keep the spirit bound,
mare and stallion crawling kept,
  heads hung low down to the ground.
Can we change?  The garden waits -
  beauty growing, clearest sight.
Chorus singing, the sun still hears
  our golden voices in the night.
In verdant trees and wilderness,
  music of a weary sigh,
from a holy, kind caress,
  we can see with tender eyes.

 Visions ancient breathe in thee,

  music, voice, violin, 

barrenness and leafy green,

  loves vibrations from within.

In blissful tree and wilderness,

  music of a weary sigh,

from a holy, kind caress,

  we can see with tender eyes.

Tree to tree and rose to rose,

  born from heaven's rumbling seas.

Wind to wind melody flows.

  We cry hearing The Two Trees. 

This is my version, my writing of The Two Trees, a poem originally written by W. B. Yeats and a song also, music by Lorenna McKennitt.  I tried to keep the same meter and emotion as Yeats' poem throughout mine as well.  Please try to listen to Lorenna McKennitt's song, if you can.  It is on her CD, the mask and mirror, and is extraordinarily beautiful.