This wondrous thing.

To make a thing with someone dear,

At first you hear,

From somewhere near,

The doubt that rings true,

And always will do,

From this year,

And for every year,

Until your years are through.


Tear that doubt and fear asunder,

For nothing there can halt the thunders,

Echoing through, over and under,

The passages inside your mind,

That allow you to bind,

To that someone dear.


Pave the path for yourself and them,

Make it clear it’s safe, and then,

Falter and blunder and unleash mayhem,

And treasure it then as the truest gem,

You’ll ever gain,

From this crushing pain,

And do it again and again and again.



Through the metal-bending forge’s fire,

There lies a spark that stokes your ire,

And with this now you can’t retire,

Until that someone dear you desire,

Accepts your offer and lifts you higher,

Taking you above the pyre,

Now burning and blazing,

You’re yearning and gazing,

At something amazing,

You both did make.


This wondrous thing.


By Jakob Philbrick

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