This Shepherd

This Shepherd

Pity this frailty of flesh,

walking in dust, carefully, gingerly, tentatively.

Go easy upon the adventure of life’s journey,

this my life, caring for sheep, nothing extraordinary.

The sheep in my care

stray high upon the hillside

this Bethlehem night.

The brightness of the star above

mesmerising, guiding, leading on towards a great emerging light.

The light is communicating.

With my friends ahead who are kneeling

We are to go back down to the foot of the plains, to a rundown stable.

The older ones among us moving as quickly as they were physically able.

I hung back,

to make sure no one was left behind from the fold.

There was a great and magnificent sight ahead to behold,

or so the angels gentle light had boldly foretold.

As I arrive, I look,

all the other shepherds

are on their knees

at the open stable door.

These my friends, as if at prayer, adoring,

the animals surrounding, are at rest,

the sheep I am carrying starts to gently snore,

But this heavenly sight is one I cannot ignore.

Peering over into the half-lit space beyond,

I make out a tall man, standing silently by a seated woman,

in the middle of them a manger covered with straw,

decorated with golden hay, with a baby sleeping peacefully inside.

The grass beneath

my feet is shimmering,

as if joyfully dancing,

the sky is a glow of colour

hallowing the emerging dawn,

the sheep on my shoulder awakes with a yawn;

then a song bursts out from the sky itself,

“Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna!”

it was as if the whole of creation,

joined together in a chorus of joy, had collectively sighed!

I ventured silently inside.

For my own joy, or curiosity I could not hide.

I gazed upon that infant, loving him with all my beating heart.

I put some straw behind his head, his mother smiled at me,

the world would not be the same again and I have played my small part.

Walking back up the hill

this night I won’t forget forever etched on my memory.

Who knows when it is retold, will they tell of this shepherd’s role in the story?

Fr Patrick Brennan 2021 ©