We are a reflection in two opposing French doors,
A beauty that, regardless of time, has been imprinted
For that very moment in a portrait of stain-glass sun,
’Round gold hinges, where light will store its memory of us.

We are broken ripples in an evanescent pond,
Pulled away and crashed together to interlock in unique rounded frames
But for a time the water slows to mimic our embrace
And as it dries the dew that’s left will store its memory of us.

We are the shards of hope in lonely places,
And the happy ending of a children’ pop-up book,
We stamp the soil in the steps we take,
And as we grow in love and life the world will remember us.