Woman. Man's mystery.
Soft as feather falling through mist,
In need of something that isn't.
I keep forgetting
That I'm rarely the reason for
Whether you rain or shine.

I am the rock you hide under
While the deluge pounds.
I am the rock you rest upon when
Soaking up the sun.
I am the rock you recognize
As last milestone before home.

Deep inside the eye of your storm
You blame me as little
For anything
As you'd blame any other rock
For something.
I'm just there.
Whatever hits you
Hits me.