An honesty unbounded,
A love that’s unconfounded.
You are those things to me.

An open window sharing,
A broken heart full-bearing,
A blossom on the tree.

I stare into the darkness,
A truth that’s full of starkness.
I move in faith with thee.

A blindness that is healing.
A light, a grace, a kneeling.
I know I am now free.

A rising that is given,
The grave cloth now is riven.
The fruit falls from the tree.

Vicki Woodyard