Shepherd Of The Homeless Poem by Felix Bongjoh

Shepherd Of The Homeless
In the green fields
On the hillside,
No shepherd, as the lambs
Flow quietly through,

The only sound
A whistle from the crucifix
Of a tall
Cross-branched tree.

Who cares about grass fields
Having no referee,
When egrets skip around
Under a sky full of yields

Of unharvested daylight,
The flowers we find
Only in far-flung gardens
Growing dark silver shadows,

As dusk swallows the cross,
A tree rattling in wind
Screaming through
With puffs and pops,
A kingfisher flapping wings
By a coughing mooing cow,

A yelping dog skipping
Off a farmer's scarecrow,
A mewling home cat
Straying off its owner,
But only Christ, the shepherd,

Guarding lambs
And watching out for
A growling storm,
Trailed by spirals of dust
Jumping on without home.