Brother

I looked into my brother’s eye
and saw a tree there waving.
I passed beyond a garden gate
and heard a mountain calling.
I walked a long a stony path
and tasted waves a–spraying.
I looked into my brother’s eye
and felt a fire – burning.

Deep beyond the black, black sky,
I looked into my brother’s eyes
and saw myself there waving.

Shakespeare knew

 a word blows into time

with every glittering chance

to heal our headspace, heart, and fly;

lifting humans by the hand,

dancing under Vincent sky

- in one chord and the next.