At My Dear Brother's Grave
At my dear brother’s grave,
I paid him my respects.
It was a winter’s day.
While standing there I glimpsed
two deer not far away.
At my dear brother’s grave,
the doe drew a bit close,
and then the other deer
(though very haltingly)
was also drawing near.
At my dear brother’s grave,
it seemed those deer nearby
that watched me were a sign
as if they came from God.
It seemed a thing divine.
At my dear brother’s grave,
I thought how he was like
the deer; though still apart
from me, his spirit was
close by to touch my heart
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