Goodness and Kindness Follow Them
In the trenches
The foxholes
The front lines
Of the war for his sheep
Eyes of thunder
Scan for dangers
His shepherd’s crook
At the ready
Traveling the lanes
Through the dark valleys
Along restful waters
He rescues the fallen
He is there for their births
Their growing,
Laughs at their play
Shakes his head when they act more like stubborn goats than tender sheep
He knows just what to do when the wolves come
He knows just where to find his lost sheep
The sheep are secure
Knowing goodness and kindness follow them
Some mornings
Dew, sunlight, and gentle breezes
Seem to cast shimmering diamonds
On the tall grasses of verdant pastures
He climbs great hills
Gazing into the blue skies
The clouds so close
He reaches his hand up to touch them
He sees fields of wild flowers
That most have never seen
He rarely misses a magnificent sunrise
And often stops to watch the many pointed bucks prance by
Many shepherd’s crooks splinter and fracture
He carves new ones-
In rough clothing
Days become many decades-
In the end there is no blood,
No cliff,
No sword,
No wolves’ teeth
The townspeople take no notice.
They never thought much of his life
Spending all his time for his sheep
‘To bad he never had a life, nor a wife, nor a penny’
He dies in a poor man’s bed
His heart overflowing, his mind full of memories-
So many sheep pastured
So many sheep saved.
Michele Marie
