Born of betrayal’s bitter chill, a gift emerges.
A symbol of remorse and rededication.
This oval stone is a white canvas, singing hope.
From his hands to mine, I believed its song.
Now a keychain pendant, I drive
our kids around, fetch groceries, mail,
unlocking doors of our shared years, I clasp it daily.
Not a symbol of shatter, but a beacon of beginnings bold.
Among a cluster of keys, my white rock is distinct.
Time passed. I fumbled and it splintered in two.
With resilience and gold, I pieced it back – beauty in mending the broken.
New rituals the glue that strengthened our bond; forest running, holding hands.
Years drift. Empty nest, date nights a blessing.
Yet the pendant, a testament, took another fall.
More pragmatist now, less dreamer
Mended with industrial strength glue!
Today this talisman, tested and transformed through hardships,
is wrinkled in adhesive webs, yet gold veins persist.
Metamorphosis manifests in its many marks – a narrative rich and raw,
From full gifted form to gold-grace, to broken but braced – each essence exists.
It’s disrupted, raw and bumpy, like our weathered forest running trail.
Should it fracture again, I’d accept its new form and leave it be.
Grateful for all the shapes, the transformances – his, mine and ours.
For in its duality, it whispers love’s endurance, through calm, through storm.
