Every promise made,

Every word given,

Every handshake passed,

Every nod gifted

Leaves a stone of hope

In the heart of the one

That is betrothed the stone

Of honest promise and open faith

In which someday that stone

Will be planted, watered, and fulfilled,

Allowing a new bloom of binding to unfurl

A new vine of binding between two souls.

For what is it to be if a stone is given

And not turned by the upkept word

Of honest integrity and steadfast respect,

By the one that hands the shake, or the nod?

Does the stone lay heavy in the played heart,

Or does it crack prematurely with broken sorrow?

Perhaps the weighted darkness

Suffocates the fragile shoots,

Or breaks the pods and shells

Of all unmade future promises.

No matter how long it takes,

No matter the distances reached,

No matter the appreciation,

No matter the acknowledgement

It should not leave:

No stone left unturned,

And should refrain from:

No promise left intact.

Simple words, heavy hearts,

Simple gift, heavy meaning,

No stone left unturned,

No promise left intact.