Shepherd’s Wolves

Came the executioner, gait unhesitant,

Struck the shepherd,

Vilified his name,

Scattered lambs though they remained, unscattered,

Recognising who should own the shame.


Sensing predator within their presence,

Flock threw off their lambskins, 

Wolves revealed,

Howled to the spirit, all great knowing,

Tended shepherd, wounds to lick, till healed,


Succoured to the needs of one so fallen,

Blessed his forehead, lips,

And too, his heart,

Whispered words of comfort ever known since

Hate and love drew brothers far apart.  


Slayer did not reckon on the wolves, clad woollen,

Nor that pack protects its own,

He did not understand,

That all conveyed by lupine leader’s actions

Subdued the wolves, contained them as meek lambs.


Did not see that underneath the sheepskin,

Soft as down when transformed

By love’s skill

Wolves, armed to teeth with rocks and slingshots, justly

Sacrifice the giant who mars god’s will.


Love between the shepherd and the wolf pack,

Born of trust, example,


Know the truth, though hidden in the rhetoric,

Taught the truth, they filter through the lies.



Times, there are,

When life takes on new meaning,

When galvanising action begs its turn,

When weathervanes rotate in new direction,

Heralding of storms and change to come.

Times, there are,

When cockerel crows a new tune,

Breaks the dawn with cries of harmony,

Resists the squalls, lengthens neck and fills lungs,

Calls to coop and land to rise anew, as free.

Times, there are,

When life holds up a mirror,

Questions what you see, what you believe,

Forces venial vanity to take stock,

‘Who is fairest, who in land is thief?’

Times, there are,

When pride and proud must bow down,

Listen to the chorus sung afresh,

Consider days ahead, not merely morning,

One with clouds of change, winds’ altered breath.