A chill breeze from the mountaintops
can freeze the purest streams.
As ice expands within the rock,
It splits upon its seams.
The removal of schistostic stone
erects a talus in the vale,
exposing igneous plutons that
in time shall also fail.
The forces of wind and water
and the quakes from underneath,
will rend the very monuments
that my love for you will leave.
But they who only seek to carve
A canyon between us each,
will never know the heat that boils
where shivers never reach.
For far beneath the crust upwells
a heat that none can quench.
It turns their water into steam
when leaks attempt to drench.
The spires my magma builds for you
will fault and fall someday,
but this burning love will build anew
a stone that won’t give way.
Together we will touch the stars
where clouds will never go,
and let our love build mountaintops
that winds will never know.