One Life's Pilgrimage
The Shepherd by Sonja
Scattered abroad like the Lost Tribes Of the Lord,
the feelings I once harbored.
For others have shattered, scattered,
and shorn this tender, seeking heart.
Pieces strewn from sea to sea,
by people pretending to love me.
So I lay, pensively and observantly,
dreaming of the distant shore of Eternity,
passively tossed by waves of time,
menacingly marching in decade form.
I'm contentedly left to drift-wood dry,
on the forsaken, lonely isle
of the aged and abandoned.
I know, therefore I smile.
What is left they couldn't steal.
What remains is what is real.
The memories of love gone away.
The Sun slowly rising,
shedding it's Perfect Brightness of Hope
at the dawning of each new day.
I kneel and pray for compassion, empathy,
and charity to share with others in need of me.
Like the Selective Shepherd,
I seek only to retrieve the purest part of me.
Copyright © 10-1999 by Sonja
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The Shepherd by Sonja
The Shepherd by Sonja
