Brother

What more can I hold on to

If, I can’t hold on to hope?

You first taught me that word

When I was only five years old.

As I sat with you in the early hours

Of a new dawns day

Your eyes so full of hope

And, a heart believing.

When you would release them

Many miles from home

Our hearts were racing

As your pigeons came home.

Their beauty of flight

With an instinct to return.

God’s vision of hope

One, by one they came home.

What more can I hold on to

If, I can’t hold on to hope?

Brother, I’m still hoping

You’ll come home.

Deborah Ann Tornillo

Copyright, 2011