Poetry

by Teresa Bateman


Shepherds

There was no little drummer boy at Bethlehem that night.
The animals did not know how to talk.
The wise men didn’t make it on time to see that sight.
But shepherds,
ah yes,
shepherds with their flock
of lambs who needed tender, watchful care
were out upon the hill ’neath starry sky.
To them the angels came with message rare—
Glad Tidings Of Great Joy … to shepherds.
WHY?
A man who tends a flock of sheep by day,
watching over them all through the night,
searching for the one that’s gone astray
until again the lost one’s in his sight;
Who leads his followers to pastures sweet
and keeps them safe from perils they can’t see—
This kind of man, this kind was first to see
the King of Kings. They knew that it was He.
Why shepherds?
Why were they the first to view
the babe?
Because,
He was a shepherd, too.

[photo] Photo by Laird Roberts