Where Two Remain

The wind came sharpened from the west,
And carved its hunger into stone.
Two figures weathered every test,
And neither faced the years alone.

The rain cut rivers down each face,
While thunder crossed the desert floor.
One lent the other’s scars a grace,
And both stood firmer than before.

The heavens changed from blue to flame,
Then faded into ash and gray.
Yet stone required no borrowed name
To know which shadow chose to stay.

No vow was written in the sand,
No promise needed to be heard.
Each stood where only both could stand,
And silence kept its given word.

I once believed that strength was sure
By keeping every wound from view.
But stone revealed what can endure:
A heart made braver next to you.

When time has taken all it may,
And left me weathered to the core,
Be still the one who chose to stay—
The one who made me something more.