I can picture a scene.
Joseph rubbing your soft fur
on the tip of your ears as you chew the grain,
explaining what you must do.
You are still–but you twitch.
Joseph carefully lifts sweet Mary
on your back and packs around her.
You are still, as you feel her small hand run through your wiry coat.
You follow your master,
quietly,
carefully–
one foot in front of the other.
The rhythm of the long journey
to Bethlehem.
Dusty
Dry
Rest finally comes
in the night.
Fresh water
Grain.
Your warmth is used again,
as a pillow
to prop up Mary,
who will be come a mother…
soon.
You are still, you close your eyes
and breath as Mary breathes.
The rhythm of the long journey
called birth.
anguish
solitary
A baby cries out…
He has come!
The Shepherd
The Master.
The Savior of the world!
You are still,
but you know
and rejoice–
then finally sleep.
Tomorrow your master calls for you.
And you will be ready.
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