Tori Amos — Battle Of Trees

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Our language of love
the Battle of Trees
we fought side by side
No one had more
sharper consonants than you love
and my vowels, well, were trusted

First comes the Birch
Rowan followed by the Ash
then through the Alder she forms
and merges with Willow

The Hawthorn blossoms
as the Oak guards the door
«She» is the hinge on which the year swings
He courts the Lightening Flash and Her

Summoning the Spirits through incantations
you said, «the Thunder God seems to have,
in our enemy, his own Laureate»
But we knew The Furies held the Holly sacred

We were insulated
in a circle of words we’d drawn
with wisdom sent from 9 Hazels
a Rowan fire, and a Willow rod

At 10 comes the Vine
that generates bramble wine
The constant change of the Night Sun
a song in the blood of the white bull

Our language of love
the Battle of Trees
we fought side by side
No one had more
sharper consonants than you love
and my vowels, well, were trusted

From Ivy leaves
is an ale that can unveil
The hidden meanings and serpents
only revealed through visions

Yes vowels could insert
«A» was for the Silver Fir

the Furze or Gorse then came next
with Heather at her most passionate

The White Poplar’s gift to the souls of the dead
a promise that it was not the end
but for the Vine — the Yew its coffin

Vowels and Consonants
the power of trees
the power they hold
the power of prose
So when the church began to twist the old myths
They built their own Tower of Babel
from Ulster to Munster

The Reed gave way then
to the Elder
The Earth turns her wheel
so that Night follows Day
From Dawn to Dawn
From Winter to Winter
That day the Ash had Power
over the Alder

Our language of love
the Battle of Trees
we fought side by side
then he said to me,
«I’ve dodged bullets
and even poisoned arrows
only to be felled by the blade
of a vowel»