The Witness - A poem about the wedding ring

the time between two breaths of a stone

is enough to blunt the ridges of high mountains,

yet, in the time since my last exhale

I only moved a step forward,

my heart has beaten twice,

my eyelids blinked once,

and my mind traveled decades ago

when you put a ring on my finger

this witness with no face,

no front, no back, just the continuity of sameness,

a band of white gold

lasting longer than mountains

in the past decades

all cells of my bones have changed, at least twice

but this ring remained

more faithful than my bones,

more coherent than my thoughts,

more continuous than your presence

I carry this ring

of which I can hang over time,

the all-encompassing witness

of my life.

Photo by Isaac Plouzek on Unsplash