(My little Advent practice, looking for tenderness in a hard-edged world, alert for signs of the coming of the Child of Peace, the Son of Light, the Broken Christ...)
SHEPHERDESS (ISAIAH 40)
You gather.
Gathering the young, gathering the old,
Gathering the raging rebel and the bruised old man.
Gathering the trans kid making plans, gathering her baffled friends.
Gathering every soul brave enough to sing hymns in the shower,
Wise enough to whistle in the long-awaited rain that greens everything.
You gather us
At tables piled high with questions and pumpkin pie.
At tables on wobbly legs, where at one end,
A quiet woman leans in to keep everything, everybody steady.
You gather us
At tables rounded by forgiveness and imagination.
At tables where scattered crumbs are gathered too.
Another kind of feast.
But not a minor one.
You pull us close, into your heart, into your breast.
Each one's broken heart fits just so
Into your warm and holy shepherdess shape.
And it's here, next to you, knowing you,
That we are safe, that we are one, that nothing of
The world's meanness can ever finally reach us.
Because you gather.
Because you gather us.
DGJ 12/2/14
