A simple shepherd — that’s all I am,
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With shepherd friends resting
on the ground thinking.
Shepherding is sometimes boring.
The hills are rocky, the grass is short,
The streams are scattered far apart.
Perhaps this life is for those not smart.
Some shepherd friends have turned away.
They asked me if I plan to stay—
Eating poorly, chasing sheep.
They say the best shepherding
Is when you sleep.
My father was a Shepherd, I answer,
And his father, too. It’s what we do;
It’s a calling, and God will bless us
By and by.
At first I thought it was the wind—
Loud but gentle, not a din.
My friends and I sit up and listen.
Why, it’s music! Are we dreaming?
No one serenades a shepherd;
But lo, it’s so and it’s enchanting.
Then we saw them, beautiful they were—
Angels, angels more and more.
And the message that they sang was true,
“A baby King is born to you.”
Who’d ever think that God
Would make this declaration
To folk who have no preparation;
But I tell you it is true.
This King was born for the simple, too.
Merry Christmas!
You can email Bro. Paris at [email protected].