the gratitude of lambs

This poem is about two years old, and it feels so applicable today. :-)


The Gratitude of Lambs

on these bright pastures, I forget
that once I fought my gentle Master’s hands,
and clung to thorns and mud and dried-dead sickly grass
and bid him let the wolves destroy
my aching lonely soul.

he spoke with softness
but I only heard the storm,
and stubbornly,
I wandered prodigal,
lost a little
more
with each abandoned foothold.

where cliff fell quick to sea I stumbled,
prayed sintossed
from rock
to
rock to
rock;
he set me free.

with love he lifted me,
with truth he taught me peace.
I joined his flock in meadows
and they welcomed me—

my shepherd knows
the gratitude of lambs.