A shepherd's life..

There is a danger to overgrazing
a pasture, 
staying too long in one place
There is much satisfaction in 
the pattern of transitioning,
of establishing small encampments, 
moving between seasons,
in a nomadic way of life
For some there is a draw, a willingness
to trade well-known identity to become 
a soul living close to nature
Indigenous people of Northern and 
Eastern Europe, Mongolia, or North 
Africa might trade meats, wool and cheeses, 
own nothing,
but find peace in leaving the past behind

Free from living en masse, 
the grind of everyday commutes and 
psychic pressures of modern life where, not 
uncommonly, a young innocent girl
could be a violet stepped on
in a park and it's true -
in western culture there are always sheep 
in need of a shepherd
It's a comfortable transition for 
independents, we loners who shrink 
from this world and live
with fresh pastures to graze on,  

where unknown shepherds keep their flock
in tact, protect it. 
Yet it is a lonely life, when the name has died, 

buried long before the body 

Indeed, the life of a shepherd is on
a higher plateau, 
the distance between summer and winter
The herding of sheep, goats, or yaks leads one 
to a virtuous soul
Instead of homeless in a city, 
a camel trader might fall sleep one
bitter, chilly night to wake up on a 
slope of the flowing Steppes of Hungary
on a night clear and find the moon lying 
on its back,  
Instead, a young woman on an alpine 
hillside milks her reindeer, surrounded by 
fields of wild cloudberries
An awkward shepherd boy treated badly
by the village people can stand proudly 
with his herd and upon reaching the curve 
of a mountain, find a beach covered 
with snow

Starting our new week with new pub tenders over at dversepoets.com Anna has asked us to write
creatively to experiment using one philosophy to describe another. i.e... to write about something totally different using baseball terminology.