First Engagement

The meeting of minds.
They’re wise to the struggle.
It’s a contest of sorts.

On the left,
He’s defensive and not a little scared, protective of emptiness, his only sure ground. On guard against the swift one who’s thrust could unmask. He’s a strong one, this man of the world. In his own mind he’s got a lot to lose – a lifetime of guesses strung together on how it all works. But it’s wind. Whirling; tenuously encased chaos.

On the right,
He’s relaxed but flexed up as well. He knows only just a little about this new fire set & burning inside. It’s calling for transfer. How and what , he’ll learn on the way. But his grip is sure, his stance is firm, his mouth is open and ready only waiting on the words.

Here’s two men; they’re old friends; both of one flesh and blood, built for life and revelation. Their only difference is: one is completed and generating a future, the other has one part missing – an echoing deadness roped to the past.
Is it a dance or a fight?
Why do they bother each other?
Hasn’t each one the right to choose his part?

But, no, they’ve both heard a riff on the wind. A snatch of melody that they want to hear more of. But there’s a step needing to be made. One is persuaded and urging; one is listening both ways and frozen to the spot.
They engage in a sequence of circling.
Working towards a final turning, when their destiny as Brothers in Arms meets the day.
Ready to face the music and bruise the captors’ hands.
Igniting fires and hunting the prisoners.