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Bird, tree, and star

There is a tree made out of light, Never such leaves before - Ever it grows by day and by night, Deep in the heart's rich core. There is a bird made out of fire, Fire on its throat and breast, And the song it sings is of heart's desire, And it sings that song without rest. There is a star, a pulsing sun, Spinning in space above, And it holds its course until time is done, And the name of the star is love.