The Good Shepherd

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The shepherd waits in patience by the rock

And semi-arid plants.  He looks beyond

His sheep to skies.  He cares about his flock

Since some of them are sacred.  He feels fond

Of little male lambs since he knows that they

Are meant for holy means.  These wandering ones,

Once they are old enough, will never say

B-a-a-a again.  These little woolly sons

Will be presented at the temple for

The slitting of their throats.  That’s why he cares.

He cares for shekels.  Blood upon the floor

Means these will never have their own small heirs.

  The shepherds watch their flocks by night as well

    And hear the angel chorus voices swell.

Your lamb shall be without blemish, a male of the first year ~ Exodus 12:5

© Phillip Whidden