Shepherd’s Song

You met me on the dirt roads
Alone under Your expanse
You sang comfort to my aching soul
With a harmony of circumstance
You found me before, in the crowd
While in the congested cities
Lost in the flow, the current,
The hum and buzz of anonymity
Pulsing in density and activity.
You held me in all, Tender Shepherd.
You begird my wounds
With hope conferred.

You are that Hope
Cradling the little chicks
Under Your mighty wing.
Keeper of the wicks
When the darkness creeps
When shadows run long,
Your timing is timeless,
Your tender song
Causes the cold and proud
To stamp and stumble
Falling low, but You lift the low;
You exalt the humbled.

You spin the world
And flip these features
So we must face and respond:
We are the creatures
And You are the Creator.
How good it is to praise
Our Father Eternal
Weaver of Days
King of Synchronicities
The tapestry You weave
An opus in hidden image
A secret delight to those who believe

And in the eye of faith
Those who can see, see
The higher calling and final becoming
Of True Beauty.
You give the best sight to the poorest,
All the wealth of man
Leads to blindness;
You shorten their span.

Lead me, True Shepherd, to the end.