Lumber of love

If...
My love could be planted.
A seed.
In the cradle of your bosom my labor would conceive and bare fruit.
A sapling would sprout.
Then you'll be my roots.
Rings.
Would tell of my age,my shade slowly advances.
Becoming a tree.
Supporting your branches.
My tears would be visible,reflecting like amber.
Your leaves would surround me with comfort,not anger.
My heart would be displayed.
Carved out,with initials inside.
I'll sway to the sound of your voice as the wind whistles by.
In silence we'll fall.
Together we'll lie.