Written no later than 2002, recorded in 2002/03 during the Miracle of Forgetting sessions.

Here is a tree facing its own mortality. Its hidden annual rings are proof of living and survival — fire, drought, pestilence. Only in its felling can a tree reveal layers of struggle and flourishing, holding them up as offerings and victories.

Lyrics

Guard my branches, protect my roots
I’ve been marked by living proof
Drive your nails through forgiving ore
Bind your name to the living core

I see you’re trying to count my rings
They’re all my little offerings
If you hope to see things through
I might as well tell you that that makes two
I don’t mind when I can’t see
Because these rings are making me

Been broken and bent, left bitter and tired
Nearly undone by the reign of fires
The years leave scars like the lesson of leaves
They ring us with faith and teach us how to bleed

I see you’re trying to count my rings
They’re all my little victories
And if you hope to see things through
I might as well tell you that that makes two
I don’t mind when I can’t see
Because these rings are making me

If you were to fell me, would you tell me?
Because my heart might break in two, and then my proof would be true

I see you’re trying to count my rings
They’re all my little victories
And if you hope to see things through
I might as well tell you that that makes two
I don’t mind when I can’t see
Because these rings are making me