autism

Reply-A-Poem to Laura Crean’s “The Shepherd Boy” – Symbolic Shepherd in Us, Above and All Around

HIgh up on a hilltop     ——–    God in heaven                                                                                                                                   I saw a Shepherd Boy ——– In the hour every day                                                                                                                          he was watching over a flock of sheep     ——-   every day I see                                                                                                   grazing near by —–  expands to all we know his sight, heart and knowledge.

But a lamb looking for adventure ——- Like many I sometimes do turn from God causing misadventures  wandered off one day ——  Misadventures turn sour                                                                                                                the Shepherd Boy noticed  —–  and more so the farther the turn                                                                                       was scolded for his mislay  ——- one often feels burnt for such a turning away!

Another day went by —– Time  can seem still in                                                                                                                         and the lamb was still not found ——this place of turning, almost non-existent!                                                             and so the Shepherd Boy—- A thought occured                                                                                                                          went searching all around—–This was an error of mine in turning.

But alas my friends, the Shepherd Boy ——Thoughts Ticking-Ticking-Ticking Away.                                      he fell crashing to his death—Sometimes a friend involved takes you on this complete turn away.         the lamb was found the next morning ——Yet, the turn is still incomplete.                                         licking the dead boy’s face.—-It was God tapping on my shoulder, “COME BACK!”                                   And so the Shepherd Boy——–Reversing now my turn was buried up on the pasture.—–Not quite there  where until its dying day, the lamb would stand by—Now back in the arms, being hold by spirit,             watching over his master.—–Nothing can ever take him away.

Or cause pain again.                                                     We are his sheep and he the master.                            Put him as master of all.                                              To turn about will have clear travel otherwise complex complex circles of tornadic whirlwinds of life will you find.

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