The Rock and the River

I was a fragment, stationary and still,
A monument of logic and of will.
I measured time in centuries of stone,
Reliable, yet heavy and alone.

You came as moonlight moving on the deep,
A prayer that never pauses to sleep.
Your sensitivity was not a veil,
But spiritual strength that would never fail.

I claimed the bed and sank beneath the tide,
With my jagged edges and my pride.
My weight was an anchor, pulling at your flow,
Refusing every path you tried to show.

It took a sacred labor to ignite
The will to lift me toward the morning light.
You didn’t break me with a sudden force,
But stayed the patient, unrelenting course.

Through four long years of winter and of sun,
The work of gentle awakening has been done.
You wore away the sharp, defensive line,
Until your compassion soaked each pore of mine.

I found a flow I never knew before,
To touch the mossy bank and willow shore.
No longer stationary, cold, and dry,
I mirror now the colors of your sky.

A slow dissolution, a merging of the soul,
Where stone and water find a common goal.
I keep my form but move within your grace,
A fluid passenger in your embrace.

Thank you for every mile you’ve brought me through,
For rounding me with love so deep and true.
Four years are but the start, my love, my guide—
With miles of beautiful river left to ride.