Yes I am the golden one,
Shining from within,
Yet my exterior is course and rough,
Reddish bark and poisonous green.
Yes I am the bringer of death,
Guardian of the shade,
Yet many pass through my gateway.
Ancient roots mingle with earth.
Yet in spring I transform and regenerate,
Bright green; branches of experience
form my trunk. Yew tree, the ancient one
is here, now, rooted,
Recycled and regenerated over centuries.
Yes I am part of an avenue
Remaining from an obscure Druidic past.
Yew tree remains witness to life and death,
To all that exists - evergreen; my name