The Watcher's Silent Witness. Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

We see the ripples, never the stone,
The way they speak when they're alone.
We judge the weight, the pace, the pride,
But miss the soul that beats inside.

We cast our shadows, cold and gray,
With sharp-edged words we throw their way.
We look for cracks where light might fail,
Or wait for winds to rend their sail.

But from the shore, we start to see
A bond that mocks the restless sea.
It isn't built on what we say,
But in the debts they choose to pay.

The way he anchors when she sways,
The way she guides through tangled haze.
A fortress built of quiet things,
Beyond the reach of queens or kings.

We came to doubt, we stayed to stare
At something holy, something rare.
A love that doesn't need our grace,
To find its home, its hallowed place.

T.M.Solvang