Shepherd Dreaming

Shepherds, shepherds, sheep, sheep;

in the hills, there they sleep.

There they sleep, ready to wake

should the world around them shake.

There they dream, taking flight

upon the stillness of the night;

dreams of hope, and dreams of wonder

dreams of worlds torn asunder;

dreams of places friendly, warm,

of colours bright, of darkening storm;

dreams of tears, songs and laughter

dreams of life and what comes after;

dreams of parties, wine and food,

fearful dreams and dreams of good;

dreams of beauty, dreams of peace,

yearning that the strife should cease;

dreams of moon and stars of night,

of waiting for the dawning light;

dreams of aging, dreams of youth,

dreams of searching, dreams of truth.

So the dreams continue long

into the night, until a song,

soft with beauty, loud with love,

interrupting from above,

calls dreamers back; back to earth

and dust, announcing human birth.

A child is here, amidst the straw,

a humble birth, unnoticed, poor;

here love divine has come to dwell:

come and see, then go and tell!

© Ken Rookes