Brother-mine, I’ve missed you. Your beard, it grows so long
Your eyes are wetted mirrors and I’ve known you all along
Do you recall our laughter? The boyish games we’d play?
As lion cubs we’d brawl and boast
At once hunter and his prey
Oh sweet brother: hunter and prey
I was with you on the hillside, I did not understand
Felt the burden of wood upon my back
The threat of the blade in his hand
Bound and splayed upon the altar, that dry and cloudless day
But as he reached to strike the match
I looked the other way
Oh sweet brother, I’ve looked the other way
Father of fathers- oh, Ibrahim- hear our humble words
As we bind you in this silken cloth
Anointed with sweet oils and herbs
And shoulder your body down into the tomb
And lay you supine upon a stone
We the sons of Abraham, two wings of one bird
Together and alone
I heard you in the wilderness but I did not understand
Why you’d been released afar and promised many lands
When you cried I ran for water, and I drank ‘til I could burst
And with greed and glut I cursed your name
When I could not quench the thirst
Oh sweet brother, I did not quench your thirst
I’ve whispered your name with each drawing of my bow
And releasing every arrow, it was our father’s name I spoke
And as if by magic, the fogs and winds withdrew
You were there behind me as the birds were cleaved in two
Oh, sweet brother the birds cleaved to
Father of fathers- oh, Ibrahim- hear our humble words
As we bind you in this silken cloth
Anointed with sweet oils and herbs
And shoulder your body down into the tomb
And lay you supine upon a stone
We the sons of Abraham, two wings of one bird
Together and alone
Though our past is fraught with heartache
And our futures are unclear
Today I kneel before you and I wash your feet in tears
In the name of our good father, brother, we have done our best
To bear his holy promise as wings, two sons abreast
We shall meet once more in Machpelah
Sing with me before we part
Great Seeds of Many Nations and boys, of a father’s shrouded heart
When our mouths are bound in gauze with no more need for words
Let us meet once more in death — as a miracle of birds
Oh sweet brother: a Miracle of Birds