Love is not a forest fire that burns intensely,hotly and out of control for a brief moment until,its expendable fuel spent,it sputters,seeking in vain for something else to consume,to sustain itself before, finally,it dies:cold, black ash the only evidence of its passing.Love is, instead, a campfire:it provides ample heat and comfortto the twosome who sit before it,and although its flames may at times wane,a well-tended campfire’s embers can be nurtured and fanneduntil the flames once again dance brightly and cheerfully,providing comfort to the couple who cherish the gentle warmth it ministers.
J. Conrad Guest, January’s Paradigm