Brother

He is thick like an oak-
twisting his roots deep
into the soil.
Never bending with the wind-
the impulsive, undecisive wind-
he will not budge for
a broad flowing river.
He reaches far into the earth
for the purest springs.
Though I stretch my limbs
to rocky ground-
where the sun refuses moisture,
and the wind mocks
my feeble buds-
in the evening he lends his
branches- wide and rigid.
His shade spreads out like a veil
extending just enough
to cool me
down-
as if it was his purpose.

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