This is for my tall, thin, and long-armed sister
whose gutsy verse sound like
those of a rumpy sistah of Gospel-proportions
This is for my ef-oh-be brother
whose English tongue can articulate
the ineffable, the painful, and the prophetic
For the glowing memory
that the shadow of death
is the shadow of life
is the shadow of God
is the reason we’re all still here
breathing like rocks and stones
Brian Hui 
Treebeard?
you know it. and btw, this is a thank you poem, in case it wasn’t obvious.