Brothers of the Journey

We made

The journey out—

Not caring

For the hurt

We left far behind us,

And only looking

For the embrace

Of love

Amongst ourselves, only,

In the cold, clear night.

We nearly hit a stag.

Almost as if expecting to be hit,

It stood still

In a sideways glance

Of a staring contest with us—

As if also waiting

For his own

Embrace of the inevitable

In the cold, clear night

Of his kingdom

In the woods.

But we stopped dead

With him

In our own tracks.

His journey

Wasn’t done,

And I guess

It was his way

Of saying

That ours wasn’t finished yet, either.

From there,

He trotted on

And we drove on...

Taking the reins again

Of a story

That we’ve yet to finish,

Yet to write,

Yet to tell,

And yet

To immerse ourselves in, fully.

And the road goes on...

Its infinite stretch

Being our pages

And limitless stage.

Its silence

Being the adventures

That yet await us:

Brothers in inseparable arms,

And of the journey

We’ll always make together.