Echoes of the Forgotten #226

Echoes of the Forgotton In city shadows where secrets sleep, Six in ten, their faith they keep, Baptized, yet homeless, under urban skies, Whispering prayers, their silenced cries. "I AM THE GOOD SHEPHERD," echoes divine, In John's gospel, a sacred line. Twice declared, a promise to hold, For the flock, He'd lay down His gold. The shepherd true, against the night, Stands firm, in darkness, He is light. While hired hands, at danger's sight, Flee, leaving sheep to their plight. The wolf prowls, fierce and keen, Sheep scattered, a sight unseen. Yet, from the heavens, a decree so bold, Judgment on the sheep, both fat and old. "The fat push, the lean they bleed, My flock suffers from their greed. I will rescue, make them free, No longer scattered, but with Me." Between each sheep, a judgment cast, From the first until the last. A promise of a haven, a peace to last, For the unseen, a love so vast. This is the tale of the city's night, Of those unseen, in their plight. A shepherd's vow, to set things right, In the "Sanctuary of the Unseen," a guiding light. -Written by Steven G. Lee (February 7, 2024)