Weight We Both Carry Poem by Linus Kithinji Njeru

A reply to 'Hear Me, My Love'

I heard your words, my precious one,
And felt the ache of battles won—
Alone, with hands both full and bare,
Still hoping I'd be standing there.

You've carried more than I have seen,
Behind your strength, a quiet lean.
And though I spoke of being unheard,
You answered not with hurt—but word.

A word that echoed through my chest:
'To strive, ' you said, 'to give our best.'
Not for gold or endless store,
But just enough—then maybe more.

It isn't ease you ever ask,
Just one who'll join you in the task.
And faith, like yours, in future days,
Still warms my heart in quiet ways.

There is a weight we both have known,
Not meant for one to bear alone.
And if your fire begins to dim,
Let mine burn bright and shelter in.

So here you stand—no grand parade,
But hands prepared, a vow remade.
To build from little, brick by brick,
Through storms that pass and times that stick.

For love is more than song or sigh—
It's showing up when wells run dry.
So let you be the strength I crave,
Not just in words, but how you brave.

You spoke, my love—and I have heard.
And now you rise, not just with word,
But with the will to pull your share,
And meet me in the weight I bear.