All was well in the forest for a long time.
Creatures would come and go,
some would make the forest their home.
Fairies, gnomes and animals of all
spaes and sizes joined in

We learn from one another and grow.
We have made true friends.
One was our beloved Fir, the evergreen
She was with us from the very beginning.
She helped seed the domain and picked out the weeds.

She was a Shining One.
She never faltered in the darkest of hours.
She nurtured the old and young alike,
and always cared for those under her branches.
She made the Bird of Rhiannon sing beautiful
songs. The Fairy circle glowed by her roots.
She was strong on the inside, but hid the awful
truth. Though the spirit was strong, the wood was weak.
She never said a word to the others, but continued
to let the dwellers believe that she was fine
One cold day, the birds did not sing, but the
doves mourned and the animals shivered.

The squirrel chattered "Wake up, Wake up something
terrible as happened."
The great white owl lazily opened his eyes. The wolf
gathered her tail more tightly around the young.
The Salmon of Knowledge dove deep into the
pool, hoping to somehow hide the truth.
The bees stopped buzzing, the ants stopped marching
all eyes to the smallest of insect crept out of its hiding
The Squirrel, with tears flowing down her
big brown eyes, was the first to see the tragedy.
"Our poor Fir," she cried out.. "Our great Fir is gone,"
Ms. Squirrel swallowed hard, "she has fallen to be
reborn again, but it is our loss."

All the creatures were shocked. How could this be?
Why? How could our sweet Fir be gone?
Even the wind cried, and the sky opened raining tears
of sadness through the land.

The great Fir tree, a true earth mother, kept us together
She held us in her branches and brought delight
and joy in every life that she touched.
Someday we will have another Fir tree.
But no tree can take the place of the first fir in
the forest.

Our Fir will be an inspiration
We will never forget.

From Death comes Rebirth. In the Summerland, she will be blessed
with the strongest wood on which to stand.

No one wanted to tell the Oak Tree.
But it had to be done, and it was.
His voice in his deep tone, held a twinge of
sadness. He stated "I did not know about that."
He already was solemn, he had traveled far
on his silver bird to pay tribute to a great
king, who had also fallen the previous year.

They fall but are never forgotten
Not by the tallest oak or the littlest
creature. Not yesterday, today, or tomorrow
Not ever. The wheel turns and we
enter our third year

Written: 11/22/2001
By: (c) MsPhenom
Detected to: Denise Hicks RIP 11/18/2001

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