Follow The Leader

A Tribute To The Blessings of Brothers

Two little boys sat playing in the yard,

Climbing a tree, yelling with glee,

When one would leave, he couldn’t go far

Before the other would scramble after.

 

The two little boys were best of friends,

Playing all night, or rolling in a fight,

But they always knew their friendship couldn’t end,

One could tell by the peals of laughter.

 

Then one day, the eldest began school,

The younger sat alone, playing so forlorn,

The hours stretched on, the games so dull,

And he gave up hope and cried.

 

But a bus soon brought the sorely missed lad.

The games resumed, the giggles ensued,

The best friends had no time to be sad,

The once-dead games were quickly revived.

 

Soon Education called the youngest as well,

To sit in Its desks, to take all Its tests,

But never could he consider these walls a jail,

For his best friend had paved the way.

 

And thus the pattern was set through the years,

The eldest to lead, the youngest to heed,

They were adventurers, explorers, buccaneers,

Oblivious to anything the world had to say.

 

Until one day came, years down the road,

The eldest looked about, afraid of missing out,

He chose a broad highway that ill forebode,

But youngest was too terrified to follow.

 

That highway, he knew, was full of trouble:

Plagued by all fears, drenched in many tears,

The youngest cried out, having lost his double

To the hideous Darkness and Its engulfing swallow

 

Resolute, the eldest ignored those pleading cries,

Heading on his own, exploring thus alone,

He scoffed at the Shadows with Their awful size

And allowed the Darkness to envelop him.

 

The shadows gave the youngest such fright,

They loomed and gloomed and spoke of doom,

Instead he embraced a narrow path of light,

Wondering if he’d ever see his best friend again.

 

One heartbroken, the other hard-hearted,

The games ended, new people they befriended,

Their paths went off and pulled them apart,

The innocent blue skies took on a dreary gray.

 

Lurking in the shadows, the eldest soon found

The monsters of the deep, the nightmares in his sleep,

Regardless he tramped on over the broken ground

Scared and bruised, he stubbornly kept to his ways.

 

If only, the youngest thought, he could possibly see,

The joys of the light, of avoiding the night,

Then he would come and once again walk with me,

And we would be the best of friends.

 

Deeper and deeper ran that broad way ran,

The traps ensnared, the evil eyes glared,

Leering at the boy limping through their lands,

As he contemplated where this path could end.

 

Finally he hesitated; the eldest looked around,

Yearning for a dawn, afraid to go on,

He collapsed upon the hardened, craggy ground,

Allowing his own tears to finally flow.

 

“It’s over for me; I’ve been lost too long,

My eyes have dimmed, my body thinned,

My fate is sealed; I should’ve known all along,”

And the shadows closed in on the boy all alone.

 

The light grew and grew, devouring Darkness’s shrouds,

The beasts all fled, as did Fear and Dread,

Leaving only a wasteland of dry dust and murky clouds,

And a huddled boy lying with eyes squeezed tight. 

 

The tear-stained face of that lost little boy,

Blinked in surprise, still awaiting his demise,

Looking about the death-strewn void,

Until finally into his Savior’s face.

 

“Fear not,” said the Man, all shrouded in light,

With His smiling eyes, that voice which mesmerized,

“You’ve come a long way throughout this night,

But the dawn is but yours to embrace.”

 

“I’m the Keeper of the Narrow Path,

Full of light, away from these frights,

You may come if you choose to come back,”

And He thus offered his shining hand.

 

Setting off, they traveled back through,

The barren landscape, that broad, creaking gate,

Back to the hills that the narrow path led into,

And towards where a solitary figure did stand.

 

“You found my friend,” the youngest cried out,

Shaking with relief, filling with peace,

“Yes, but you’ll have to help him get about,”

The Keeper said, handing over the friend.

 

The wounds ran deep, and took quite some dressing,

Bandaging what hurt a bit, making new tourniquets,

But the faithful younger friend helped and was a blessing,

And the eldest survived each sequential day

 

It was a trying time for the eldest to go through:

His eyes taking it in; readjusting to his friend:

And Time began Its healing as It so often will do,

But the eldest needed healing most within.

 

Things had changed from the times before,

No longer so brave, no longer naïve,

The eldest was afraid to jump off and explore,

So the youngest took his hand and lead the way.

 

They set out again with a breath of fresh air:

Partners-in-crime, their forces combined,

Romping about, they roamed where they dared,

As long as the youngest headed up their trips.

 

It was the eldest’s limp that caused him to hesitate:

He couldn’t sprint or dash, or even walk fast.

But the youngest was not quailed by that limited state,

Simply reaching out, maintaining his firm grip.

 

The eldest was sure that he had broken something,

In his earlier days, from his errant ways,

But Time would soon prove his doubts lacking,

For It strengthened his body with every step.

 

From a limp to a walk, from a walk to a run,

The two pushed on, both going strong,

Sprinting forth, heading towards the rising sun,

Their faces gleamed with grins, with beaded sweat.

 

With blood coursing strongly through his veins,

Flushing his cheeks, strengthening his feet,

The eldest knew that his legs no longer were lame,

And he looked past the youngest to the great beyond.

 

Thus far they had traversed the rolling hills,

With their little critters, and the birds’ twitters,

And they continued rolling on for miles still,

But past them, a tremendous sight sprawled

 

These hills led to mountains that plunged into clouds,

Wreathed in white, soaring from sight,

Presenting the daunting task of crossing it somehow,

And the eldest strengthened his heart.

 

But the youngest suddenly faltered as he too beheld,

The massive behemoths, those terrifying cliffs,

Until his sprint dwindled, and he eventually stood still,

His earlier resolutions falling apart.

 

But the eldest’s hand rested upon his shoulder,

He’d faced monstrosities, escaped the worst of things,

And now that shameful past made him bolder,

And he calmly stepped past the other.

 

“Follow me, my friend,” said he, taking the lead,

As he once had, when they were both lads,

His eyes were glinting with determined beads:

“Let’s take these mountains, my brother.”

 

They struck out, heading towards the pass,

With heads raised high, enjoying blue skies,

When the Keeper stepped out into their paths,

With another standing beside him.

 

“Good day, dear brothers, but I can’t let you go

Through those peaks, with those winds that shriek,

For you two shall be split apart in the trails of the snow,

And solitude but welcomes death in.”

 

“Then where do we go? What comes next?

This can’t be the end; we must go ascend

Those mountains,” said the eldest perplexed,

And the Keeper gave a wide smile.

 

“You each are unable to wage this trip alone

But you still can go, still weather the snow,

As long you each have a companion of your own,”

Then He looked to his companion.

 

“For the eldest, I’ve prepared your Ezer Neged,” –

He nudged her forward, her eyes cast downward,

“She’s been well prepared for your days ahead,

And shall be a blessing for traveling.”

 

And as she looked up, and the eldest beheld

Those beautiful eyes, that face of smiles,

He knew somehow that she completed himself.

He tenderly took her by the hand.

 

“Would you be willing to join my adventure?

To stay by my side? To weather rough tides?”

The eldest eyes searched hers as he asked her,

And he beheld his answer deep within.

 

Together, they turned to head up to those heights,

Those dangerous cliffs, those precipices,

Together, they wouldn’t falter from any fight.

So holding hands, she was led by him.

 

The Youngest and the Keeper smiled after them,

What an adventure! What a bright future

But upon the youngest’s brow a frown crept in,

And to the Keeper, he confusedly turned.

 

“But what about me?  Am I to stay here?

Am I to waste away? To squander my days?

Why can’t I go and accompany them there?

Tell me my life won’t end at thus spurned!”

 

The Keeper smiled, “Your day, too, shall one day be–

Taking the heights, overcoming your frights–

But for now, learn be content with my company,

For I still have much to teach you.”

 

The youngest looked back towards his disappearing friend,

He gave a sigh, closed his eyes,

And resolutely turned back to let the learning begin,

 And the Keeper’s smiling eyes approved.

 

 

 

Diedre Bonner

 

 

 

     To truly understand this poem, one must know a bit of the story behind it.  Everything you read happened exactly as it was outlined (metaphorically speaking, of course).  My older brother (by about 20 months) and I were always very close.  However, when he hit high school, he turned his back on his Christian upbringing and the morals thereof; that lasted all the way through high school until after he graduated. 

     At that point, God got a hold of him, and he did some 'soul searching' so to speak. After he rededicated his life, he and I spent the next few years on the adventure that true Christianity always is.  We once again became very close, and became roommates while attending the same college.

     I actually wrote this poem in honor of my brother's wedding.  He had found an awesome girl six hundred miles away, and in six months, he had married her. It was a tribute and an act of gratitude for the hard times we had weathered together.

 

Reviews

[Markymark]

An epic for sure, but worth the end. I am sure that this story has been repeated thousands of times in the lives of kids everywhere. I have come to the conclusion that faith is all that really matters in this world, all else is dreg. Thank you for sharing this piece.

Mark