The Shepherd's Echo* #918

The Shepherd's Echo In twilight's gentle close, where shadows blend With light that fades into the quiet night, The Good Shepherd whispers, soft and deep— His voice a lullaby to the stars. He walks a sacred path, through thorn and thistle, Over crests of rock, through silent vales, His every step a solemn vow, A relentless quest for souls that stray. Behold the cross, not just wood but the axis of worlds, Where mercy and mourning gracefully meet. It stands, the Shepherd's staff of love, In thorns crowned—His joy, His royal feat. Each heart a wandering sheep on distant hills, Each soul a story, whispered in the wind. The Shepherd, arms wide as skies, gathers The night and its children into His fold. Let us walk in these steps that seek and save, Let us call home the lost, the lone, Celebrating each return not with whispers But with joyous shouts that shake the heavens. For in the heartbeat of the lost, beats His, And in finding them, we find ourselves. In His embrace, arms stretched upon the cross, We find the endless reach of grace. So small the world becomes, in His loving hold, Warmed by the fire of divine love— The echoes of the Shepherd, calling, Calling us home, to light, to love. Written by Steven G. Lee (April 15, 2024)