Beneath the stars where silence sings,
A ring of life, of roots and wings,
The Tree still stands where time lets go—
Its branches wide, its waters flow.
The rivers leap from sacred height,
A throne of roots in endless light,
The stars bend low, the heavens see—
A call to return to the Living Tree.
Not carved by man nor held by creed,
It blossoms not from earthly need,
But pulses with the breath of YAH,
Its law is love, its fruit is awe.
The circle hums with whispered fire,
A flame o... moreBeneath the stars where silence sings,
A ring of life, of roots and wings,
The Tree still stands where time lets go—
Its branches wide, its waters flow.
The rivers leap from sacred height,
A throne of roots in endless light,
The stars bend low, the heavens see—
A call to return to the Living Tree.
Not carved by man nor held by creed,
It blossoms not from earthly need,
But pulses with the breath of YAH,
Its law is love, its fruit is awe.
The circle hums with whispered fire,
A flame of hope, of deep desire.
And in its bark, your name still glows—
For every soul the Tree still knows.
Come wanderer, worn by the dust,
Who drank of doubt, who feared to trust—
Come home through light, through song, through sea,
And rest beneath the Living Tree.
✠Sir John Scivoletti✠
✠Turco, Joan of Arc Priory✠
God Above All
