The Book of Hopes: My Brother is A Pangolin

We dance and laugh under the stars sometimes,
When days are good and treat us kind.
We hide and cry in tune
When sorrows lay as thick as snow.
He knows secrets I'll never know,
How flowers smile and trees chuckle
As birds fly high above and low.
He tells me so when I listen
It's not his voice, it is the wind,
The secret song of silent things.
With infinite patience they wait
The wild ones that don't know hate.
If like wings I could spread my arms
And just so, shield them from harm.
My skin, soft and thin,
And his armour of scales,
Both fragile things
Under a high sky ceiling.
He says there's hope in all that grows
That includes me, and I'm smiling.
His trust is what keeps me going
When days are dark and cold as snow.
My brother is a Pangolin,
Because his sorrow is my sorrow.
Ten thousand miles between us count for nothing
I feel his heart beating, under my skin.