The Ark

You swing that thing with ease each day
All that time in those leafed lands.
It's life that you're destroying
With that axe that's in your hands.

You will cut to manageable pieces
And then you will build your boat.
All your dreams dashed upon the rocks,
So is it time for them to float?

You may sail it down the river,
Or perhaps sail on open seas,
But those dreams will travel with you
When you crash upon the reef.

You're gonna have to fix that boat
But don't cut down another tree,
There is a branch that's thick enough
Trees recover from that with ease.

So again you're off and floating
But your dreams could now been lost.
Just like cutting down one single tree
That axe of mind exacts a cost.

You have not been cut and brought to earth
Though felled you sometimes feel
But like that tree stood in those woods
If you're not dead, then you will heal.