THE SHEPHERD

I asked God,

like I had done so many times before, 

in the slits of the light beaming in through the blinds, 

through the tears in my eyes,

with this man’s hands held firm against mine,

if he would be so pleased,

if he would be so kind,

then let me know,

if this Godly man is not mine

and release him please. 

Because oh Lord, 

for I think about the love from this man

more than yours for me and mine.

BUT NOT UNTIL

we watched the shepherd care for his sheep

and his cattle dogs nip at their feet.

BUT NO UNTIL

I awoke in the fall misty air

with aspen leaves falling in my hair.

BUT NOT UNTIL

we drove through the snowy peaks

and I wondered about my wasted weeks.

BUT NOT UNTIL

we returned to that dry plain town

and I shed my sweater and threw it down. 

BUT NOT UNTIL

we laid in his bed

and I asked if he’d have me

and loved me still. 

He hung on his words

like so many had done before

like a slide of a knife

on a hand not born to kill. 

I knew in my heart,

but still cried all the same,

that my prayer had been answered. 

He did.

Oh, He did. 

And in the end, 

I still begged God, asking

Why?

Note: Oh we are SO BACK. LFGGGGGGGG