Brothers' Song

Updated: Jul 10, 2019



I've been feeling a bit musical lately, and trying to capture the feeling I get being out here in the heart of the California desert, so similar and yet so different from the El Paso desert I currently call home. Anyway, here I am, sandy and windblown and walking the warrior-scholar-bard path to the best of my ability. My work has brought me closer to Minerva as of late, which is why she gets a latin-shoutout in the lyrics below. At some point upon my return I will set this one to music and post a link to my SoundCloud...key words: at some point. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the step out of my fictional world of Aorea and into my present reality. I've titled this one "My Brothers' Song," and yes--that apostrophe placement is intentional. Plural possessives, people. Plural possessive.


When I was younger, and I was a fool,

I thought I could go anywhere I wanted to.

Now that I'm back in the desert again,

My world is compressed into a grain of sand.

The wind stirs up the dust, and I start to let go;

The sky stretches before me into the unknown.

Surrounded by brothers whom I barely know--

In the midst of the crowd, I stand alone.

When the dust settles for the last time,

I'll turn to the west and close my eyes.

When my brothers all scatter like ghosts on the breeze,

Nothing will take the fight out of me.

The mountains stand tall, unforgiving and cruel;

The bones of the Earth, stark against the blue.

Boots full of sand, my eyes full of light.

Somewhere in the distance the coyotes cry.

The wind stirs up the dust, and I'm reminiscing;

The sky stretches before me and I start to sing.

Surrounded by brothers, but still so alone--

I hear your voice, feel your breath, and I know:

When the dust settles for the last time,

I'll turn to the west and close my eyes.

When the end comes, the war just marches on;

I will keep singing my brothers' song.

Mother of Wisdom, I ask that you lend me

The knowledge and strength to rightly lead.

Ave Minerva, Dea Belli:

I promise to keep the fight within me.

When the dust settles for the last time,

I'll turn to the west and close my eyes.

I'll hear your voices upon the breeze:

My brothers are singing along with me.

#music #warrior #poetry

7 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All