They stood inside an ancient oak tree, steady on limbs thick, strong, and unbreakable.

“What are we doing? Is this the right thing?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never done this either.” He showed her the ring. Simple, unique, creative just like she was.

She read him the poem she had written. The last line – “So, I promise you the sun.”

“And I promise you the moon,” he said to her.

“What if we break our promises? Even if we don’t mean to?”

“Then,” he said, “together, we will hold up our world.”

painting by C. Dennis-Willingham