faith in common

we, bend knee to the same force,
the same inutterable flame,
the same wilderness cut
in the facets of the same hundred names.

i know you but for the carving
of your current gleaming frame.

you of ash and i of vine,
but brother, in us and our shared paramour,
the two are oft entwined--
to what difference now, than ever before?

what trenches thus, what wretched troughs
have you there suffered, and i not suffered of?

"i, i, i. i alone," you say, "and They, my only guide..."
with stinging grin, in bitter pride
as though They sit not, wounds aside,
among Their kin, at Their king-brother's side.

come, brother, we are but two roads
facing different winds to the same Rome.

you, in all your chanting "i, alone,"
unseeing that such mantra bears no thought:
it is but circumstance to set (and you, the stone).
we are alone, dear brother, you are not.