In the pasture of sleep, I roam the fields.
Where shadows of memory graze quietly.
A soul tethered in the past.
Its bleats echo through far-away hills.
These spectral wanderers.
Wool spun from the threads of nostalgia.
Each flicker.
Each hoofbeat.
A heartbeat of joyous laughter.
In the quiet of night, I am their shepherd.
That leads triumphantly to the lamb I
once was.
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Author:
Neil Higgins (
Offline) - Published: May 22nd, 2026 16:55
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 3
Offline)
Comments1
A great metaphor with wonderful images of a pastoral scene. Lovely
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