You, My Brother

We worked under a long sun, through
Thin and thick rain; sometimes
In all weathers, sometimes working
Deep into a mud-night with your arms
Straining, ivied with sinew and brick dust.

I toiled beside you, smaller and more unsure
Than you were, caught in your wake
As your eyes sang songs of the heavens
Crystallising around us; your voice
Carrying me gently into the welcome night.

Plying brick upon brick, you sought
The high ground, seeking those places
Above the clouds, aspiring the rarified
Greatness in the heady air
Only known to the blessed

I on the other hand was scared, scarred
By the capricious air and could not build
I dug deep instead, into the earth
Seeking a baptism of sorts,
Perhaps a just a simple return.

So we go our separate ways; you,
My brother and I; your voice grows faint
With the sky narrowing like an iris
As your tower points accusingly
At my cowardice