Roots, from tundra grown,
stretch and strain through frozen earth.
Un' reddened night skies of painted lights.
Through rocky earth and back,
to cool night.
Far away, locked close of heart,
where southern cross lights the dark.
A prodigal son is born
not so prodigal.
And in his heart
lies that tundra,
and those roots stretch
to anchor with fealty.
To his brother, my brother...
hearts locked like fists,
From earth to sky,
holding me tight, yet letting me soar
And with time passing, so often away
and never so close.
With roots entwined. Brother
[Written circa 2008 for my best friend]