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