Thinking of saints and shepherds

Parable of the lost sheepDIGITAL CAMERA

I can see him forlorn
outlined against the foothills,
no cliffs yet,
he’s just at the beginning of his adventure
and doesn’t know how lonely
wandering can be —

the runaway,
neck arched in independence.

I follow him at a safe distance,
never letting him know
that choosing lost is not an option,

and when we meet,
as if by chance,
in some craggy, stumbling place,
I make sure he sees
all my surprise and joy.

I would not hurt his pride
for all the world,
and he knows I’m afraid
to go home from the hills in the dark.

It boosts an old shepherd’s courage,
to have a companion.

It may look to ninety-nine passers by
as if I’m carrying him,
but we both know
he’s only giving me a hug.

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3 Responses to Thinking of saints and shepherds

  1. Lovely, and true. My cat knows she is the real care-giver here, and I’ve heard farmers in Vermont talk about themselves as staff to their cows.

  2. R. Matthew Stevens says:

    As always Maren, simple, elegant, readily comprehensible, and inspiring. Thank you for sharing.
    By the way, are you any closer to a publishing release date for your latest collection? Please advise. Matthew.

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