Had Quit

If he had quit when the winter bit deep,

And frost claimed the promises he swore to keep,

The soil would have hardened, the seeds would have died,

Beneath the cold weight of the doubts he denied.

If she had stopped when the midnight grew long,

And silence outshined the faint hope of a song,

The world would have missed what she struggled to bear,

Unknowing the magic that blossomed from there.

For valleys are measured by mountains climbed high,

And stars are revealed only under dark sky.

Had they surrendered when giving was sweet,

They never would stand where the horizons meet.