Wounds from a friend can be trusted
Wounds from an enemy, too
because they wouldn’t be there
unless you had let them through
And if you are the one agreeing then
they must be what’s required.
You are a Good Shepherd,
not the one that’s hired
You are a Good Shepherd
The one for which and I was sired.
What meager habitations God requires
What diminutive spots he lands in
How else could he have managed
how else could he have hung around
the whole universe from and for him expounded?
Why are we never quiet?
Why can’t we sit and rest?
Why won’t we let him inhabit
Every pore within our breast?
Now that’s a universe itself.