Reflections
My brother and I are not the same.
We are better likened to mirrors, reflections of each other. I possess a mercurial spirit. Passionate. Troubled. I have been called these things – and more. Dangerous. Wild. They believe I do not see it, that I am blinded by storms which come and go like a tide with no cycle.
But how could I remain blind, when my reflection is always beside me?
He is the light to my shadow. Calm. Balanced. He soothes when I rage. He sings when I cry. He clings to hope – while I – I drown in despair. He wishes for peace, and in this we are the same. Still, I know the peace he prays for is carried on seabird's wings, while mine flies on the tip of an arrow.