My brother, from another mother\'s grace,
A chosen kin, a light in time and space.
Sometimes I wonder, on this winding road,
How I\'d bear trials, or ease my heavy load,
Without your patient ear, your waiting hand,
The steadfast anchor in my restless sand.
You listen with a calm I haven\'t earned,
Your quiet silence, where a promise burned.
Though gratitude gets lost in hurried days,
You\'re always there, through all my shifting ways.
I know I often take your patience whole,
Forgetting burdens deep within your soul.
You hold the world, its weight, for all to see,
Without a whisper, or a single plea.
When the fierce hurricane ripped through my home,
And broke my doll, where childhood memories roamed—
That fragile relic, older than my years—
I came to you, my heart dissolved in tears.
My doll in pieces, in my trembling hand,
You, who had never made one, dared to stand
A doll-maker, with quiet, knowing eyes.
No laughter then, no judgment, no surprise.
Just paper clips, some rubber bands you found,
And silent magic, on that hallowed ground.
It wasn\'t just the doll you made complete;
You helped me gather self, from shattered street.
You held the space, while pieces found their place,
And with a smile, restored my inner grace:
\"We\'re still here,\" you said, a truth so deep.
My hero, always, secrets I would keep.
I know I\'m stubborn, sharp-edged, prone to stray,
Sometimes careless with your heart\'s soft way.
You take too much, allow the world to lean,
A faultless stone, a strong and quiet scene.
Perhaps we all forget to ask, and see,
What silent comfort you might long to be.
And for that oversight, I am so sorry, friend.
But hear these words, on which my heart depends:
I see you, truly. I appreciate your soul,
Your gentle kindness, making spirits whole.
I love you, not just for the ways you mend,
But for your truth, your light that knows no end.