‘How beautiful it is for brethren to live together in harmony’;
A beauty unmarred by offenses, unbroken by distance,
Unforgotten through time, to be desired the harder it is to maintain;
It is like the sound of heaven’s choir with perfect harmonies;
It is the song of victory of the saints separated by times,
Sang across generations, eras, dispensations, and covenants.
‘And there’s a friend that sticks closer than a brother’;
His head lies on my bosom as I speak out my grievances;
He smells of the breath of day filled with morning blossoms.
He is rare, and would take a lifetime to find if sought for;
But refuses to acknowledge so with a smile that speaks volumes
And says nothing at all…hiding the price paid in layers of love.
‘But lover and friend are far from me, my friends are in darkness’;
Ah; What grief and distress, undiminished by poignant poetic elegance;
The greatest misfortune, since this ‘farness’ isn’t physical distance;
He called it an affliction, he who bore it, and rightly so,
For even misery desires company, and usually has more than enough.
There is One that calls me friend, and is closer than a brother;
‘A friend who loves at all times, and a brother born for adversity’;
He loves me in ways I cannot understand, though I’ve never seen His face;
He does not lay His head on my bosom; He has made space for Himself in me
In a place I cannot see, touch, or feel, but can sense even when it is direst;
It may be that I have many siblings, and friends galore, great ones too;
But none can compare, try though they may, even to death – well, only to death.
It may well be that I have none to call kinsman, and enemies set roundabout,
But this is no misfortune or affliction, when I have a brother by adoption,
Who calls me friend, and sticks closer than my breath, and bears me up.