The Farmer's Words
Something is always wrong with the sheep,
the farmer says with disdainful tone.
Their feet, their bums, ever lost or caught.
Would never make it on their own.
Funny that He calls me sheep,
Rumbles of laughter fill my soul.
My body, my will, often lost or caught.
My freedom is found in His control.
Something is always wrong with this sheep.
This truth sits like a wisdom crown.
My shepherd, my farmer, my gardener, my friend.
Watched by Him, I'm safely found.
Written November 2020
