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

Prophets and other dreamers

Dreaming aloud as the perplexing words

of the strange and mysterious God

dance to their unique rhythms;

catapulting into the prophet’s

conscious thoughts and out again.

Words, this time, of hope;

encouraging affirmations of renewal,

with the troubled times retreating

into non-memory.

For the once great city

there is a promise of restoration,

of joy and delight; and of blessings

that will become for all an invitation to life.

Words of domestic contentment;

people dwelling in houses

they have toiled hard to build,

and granted the greatest of all

signs of hope, the birth of a child.

The words continue their unconstrained dance

singing of enjoyment and satisfaction in old age;

and of planting vineyards with the expectation

of enjoying their fruit. “You plant grapes

for your grandchildren,”

a winegrower once told me.

The words dance crazily as they tell

of wolves and lambs feeding side by side,

and of lions and oxen

sharing the same bale of hay.

At his point we know that the dreaming

has taken over from reality,

and that what really counts

is the abiding presence of the God

who answers even before she is called.

© 2010 Ken Rookes