Maaa-maaa

I have a little flock of sheep
And they are mine to tend and keep.
And I must guard them every day
For little lambs, when left alone,
Will lose their way.

So many voices say to me,
A sheep fold is no place to be.
Your time in there is dull and slow,
And lambs leave very little room
For you to grow.

Oh, surely there will come a day
When all the lambs have left my side,
And I am free to roam about,
And go exploring other meadows,
Green and wide.

Yet something whispers in my heart
That when my sheep have left this pen
I'll long to stroke their little heads,
To draw them close to me
And have them young again.

So while they still are in my care
I pray that I will clearly see
These little lambs within my fold
Are tender gifts the Master Shepherd
Has given me.
--Lisa Bearnson