The Tree of LIfe is not a shrub of strife
It's a place where you can play your fife
It contains the story of your life
And with truthful lore it is full and rife
At the top of the Tree you find your wife
You cut the fruits down with your knife.

The fruits will feed your soul,
and fill your bowl.
Over the rim you will roll,
and rock up and down the pole,
Otherwise known as the trunk of the Tree
This is what will set you free.
And if you run out of words that rhyme,
that's fine!