I am the cutter

You are the tree.

I love you

And you love me.

 

I take up my axe

Step out the front door,

To search for my tree,

My love I adore.

 

The sun has gone down

All eyes are asleep.

I call for your name

And you call for me.

 

“I missed you so dearly,”

I hear your soft voice.

“Come quickly and find me!”

I do—and rejoice.

 

We meet in the darkness,

Your face looks so sunk.

I hug your waist tightly

And measure your trunk.

 

“The day has been hard,”

You mournfully weep,

“Hush dear, all is better,”

And sap starts to seep.

 

I push my ax deeper—

You fall to the earth,

And peaceful you lay,

For this was your worth.

 

I am the cutter,

You are the tree,

I love you

And you love me.