Down in the Garden

(Damh the Bard)

I was asked if I had ever written a song that could be played at a funeral. I knew that a few of my songs had already accompanied those passed away on their new Journeys but I had never written one specifically about that part of our lives. A part that is inevitable, yet our society seems to wish to protect us from anything to do with death. I wanted to write a song from the viewpoint of the person who had moved on. A song acknowledging their passing over, yet also a song to tell those left behind that they were ok – that they still lived on, in the sunrise, the birdsong, in the memories of their friends and loved ones. That death was not the end.

Down in the garden,
Is a willow tree,
Its hair in the breeze,
Whispers to me.
A voice is calling,
From deep inside,
It’s longing to find,
One of its kind.

For I am the rising sun,
I am the birdsong when the day is done.
I am the tear in your eye,
I am alive.

Down in the garden,
Where the mushrooms grow,
And the moss-covered stone,
Shows me home,
Wet soil on my fingers,
I draw back the veil,
And I say a prayer,
But I’m not scared.

Down in the gardens,
Leaves will fall,
Down to the ground,
Without a sound,
If ever you need me,
There’s a willow tree,
It’s hair in the breeze,
That’s where I’ll be.