Years ago it was kind of common,
To carve initials into a tree,
A sign that signifies new found love,
In a place where all could see,
And just like a tree in a field,
There are initials carved in me.
Somewhere in the course of living life,
In that place where dreams are born,
Those dreams are carved into the soul,
By a heart in pieces torn,
And all the weather that comes along,
Is just another season worn.
Under the right conditions,
For years that tree remains,
It’s bark takes on a weathered look,
With water marks it’s tear stains,
It lives through cold and summer sun,
Through the seasons changing pains.
As that tree grows and expands,
Those initials are still clearly seen,
And inside every one of us,
There are carvings in between,
Things that stay with us forever,
With nothing they might mean.
Those initials carved long ago,
Are love that lives in the heart,
And the lone tree in that field,
Still grows though growing apart,
Those carved initials grow with the tree,
Since the day that love did start.
The tree’s roots reach into the earth,
Taking nourishment from the ground,
Living and breathing with a carved in heart,
That beats without a sound,
And your name’s carved into this soul,
For the love together we found.