Do Not Cry For Me

Do not cry for me; I have lived many years,

seen kings and kingdom rise and fall, held mourners’ grief and fears.

Do not cry for me; for I have revelled in life aswell—

Childrens’ days, summer fun, climbing branches ’til they fell.

Do not mourn me either, at least in the way you’ve been taught;

no need for tears, nor wails or cries, or flowers to be bought.

Instead, let me teach you, about life and death on earth —

a reality so stirring, and yet guaranteed from birth.

Some of us are here for long, some lives very brief;

each of us here to hold a hand and offer great relief.

And whilst I now serve the insects, the bats, the birds and the bees,

you too will grow to serve another, that blesses you with their need.

You see life is very simple that way — indeed all of us are special,

not more or less than another though, just a completion of the puzzle.

So when you look at me now I’m a little hollow inside,

remember this one lesson on of life, to keep you in your stride…

And in its final moments the oak whispered words the breeze carried my way

“Life is precious — release the reigns of control, smile, and live only for today.”

I wrote this poem on 24 June 2026, as I sat, 30 odd degrees outside, under the canopy of Sherwood Forest, cold coffee in hand, listening to what the place had to say in the week since the news was declared: The Major Oak was officially decreased. To some it was just a tree on the news, to others, a symbol of their childhood, like their favourite Blue Peter presenter passing. For others, it represented something much deeper; the end of a 1,000 year old chapter as we head towards new beginnings. For me? It was my writing companion over the last 5 years since I’ve been in the village, and I wanted to mark its passing with some words.

Becky x