The ghost tree
By Nicholas Hooper
What are your memories old tree
as you stand there so silently?
The darkness around you your shroud
as you stand there so tall and so proud.
I would swim in your veins to your roots
and up through your branches where shoots
of new growth reach up hoping to give
you a few more short years to live.
But I fear for your frailty you giant
for an apple tree once supple and pliant
and hope that some part of you will
stay in my garden to still
give your shade and your apples to hold
all the stories and tales you have told
through your bark and your leaves to the air.
Please don’t go for my lack of good care.
“Every morning at around 5am I get up and go down to my studio. After a short meditation I write down whatever is in my head, giving myself fifteen minutes to do so. Then moving over to the piano (or a more portable instrument like my Ukulele when I'm away), I improvise and record a piece of music inspired by whatever words I just wrote. It is a great way of keeping both my writing and my composing going and I call these small creations Dawnings. They are mostly unedited, like sketches, so that they keep that fresh feeling of an early morning discovery.”
— Nick Hooper