19 September

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If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, 

and his love is perfect in us.

I hadn't been to Marjoram park in a few weeks.

There was a time, in high summer, when I was there every day,

and every day I would find a tiny gift to leave at the base of

the giant pine tree whose majestic branches hang over the cliff

framing the view of the Atlantic,

or the largest old Oak who drops his acorns

in musical harmony

on the grasses beside me while I sit on the benches.



This day I found two rocks on the beach beneath

and climbed up the hilly path.

I leaned the larger rock, which looked like a cat's head, against the pine

and the smaller triangular rock I stood on end below the Oak.

In return they shared with me

a smallish oak leaf

browned with the coming autumn

a heart in the middle

green to show that love still lives

outlined in yellow for friendship