Within the Shepherd’s Heart

Damn, how'd I miss this? Not much to do, but this, Kal: You have surrounded me with the plague Oh Lord, my God, you are poetic; goodness and humor your favorite vices; like the ventriloquists’ dummies, the things they say are your words; unknowingly the master’s puppeteer is blissfully ignorant of his helplessness You are our Shepherd with indifference ironically, your humor is bittersweet; it makes the marionette laugh and the puppets aware of its Master’s hands The bleating sheep are yet to be sheared with honesty and laughter you tear and tare these earthen dummies with strings attached The herd needs one good whack across its back to break all their strings, to replace halos and wings to hear the Cherubim’s sing, oh, to hear those angels sing! To lead and guide to carry and hide gathered beneath their enormous wings, staffs in hand awaiting the golden bands announcements made! The curtain rolls away the heathen swayed lives reborn homage paid truth is now displayed Clay pots broken silver cords part One makes for a brand new start within the Shepherd’s heart. Brilliant poem! Thank you. ~Anna "Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." ~ A Course In Miracles

Your choice, our choices, no strings. I admire this more than every poem you have ever written copacetic great word! The heard [herd?] needs one good whack across its back You know I don't like religious poetry but you have written it with passion and grace. Cheers, Jess, Praise helps no poet, have the courage and generousity to give critique.