Out in the pasture, the sheep lay 'round
Quiet and tranquil, not making a sound.
When one little sheep, 'twas not very old
Got up from the flock, strayed out in the cold.
For many a year, he wandered afar
Mid turmoil, he hungered, felt thorns that did scar
Over rocky roads that were rough and steep,
Carrying a memory, in his heart, so deep.
The loving Shepherd left His flock one day,
Went out to the desert to find His stray.
At last, He heard the little one's cry -
He found him helpless, about to die.
On shoulders strong, He carried His own,
From ninety-nine others, no more will he roam.
The angels I heaven rejoiced 'round the throne,
For the Good Shepherd had brought
His lost one back home.
~ Darlene LaRose Skiff
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