The Wild Flock

Salvoes in Faith

It must be rough

Watching us

In the upward climb.

Heads butt

And feet stray

From the path

You know is best.

And I am in this bunch.

Hazards too many

Because of our stiff necks

And crazy inclinations.

Because of the mean weather

And the skulking wolf.

A friend passed yesterday

We bleated our misery

Missing a member.

Feeling our vulnerability.

But your rod, Sir

And your staff

They comfort me

In strange ways.

And with you

It is mostly sunshine

And that high, lush plateau*

Will be attained.

______________________________________________________________

(*Romans 8: 35-39)

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