One book does not a teaching make.
Love is here but not to take.
I am love and I live on
still shining down upon the lawn
where I sat with sun and cat
never doubting I was that.

I wrote to you and
you were true to life and
true to me and so our book
is like a tree.

Its leaves are turning
and the burning fires of love
consume all that’s left
within the room of life and death
and love is hidden in each breath.

Vicki Woodyard