I’ve heard your name scoffed
with a sideways discard of the lips
for being not native
not welcome here
as if your right to be upstanding
is somehow less
because once this island did not know you

but yours is a history of centuries seen
your type gives homes to birds and shades
shepherds’ chatter as shears speak sharp
bobbins from your wood have turned a revolution

here beneath the helm you stand on stone, alone
song of the organ player above translated
into scatter of scree, peregrine shriek
an overture of wind

your changing looks have long gone unnoticed
save by the farmer who checks his sheep each day
but you have seeped into our sights and minds
the feel of your bark, the play of your leaves
forever a part of our lives

Helm Crag, which rises above the Under Helm Sycamore, is commonly called The Lion and the Lamb because of its appearance when viewed from the south. If you look at it from the northeast, it takes on the sillhouette of an organ player.

The Under Helm Sycamore

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