Now the Sheep are Scattered

This poem was written for Easter 2020, and released in two parts; Part I on Easter Saturday, and Part II on the morning of Easter Sunday. It was inspired by Matthew 26:31, and, fairly obviously, the current coronavirus situation in which we all find ourselves. Hope you enjoy it!




Part I

The entrance to the nave is locked 

This Easter, none are gathered.

The Shepherd and his church are struck 

And now the sheep are scattered.


The sacraments are locked away,

The doors and windows battened.

The organ will not, cannot, play,

For now the sheep are scattered.


And Christ is strung, high on his cross,

His body scarred and tattered.

But his disciples keep no watch 

Not now the sheep are scattered.


And I do not know if we can cope,

Our mortal lives so shattered.

We are dried up; we have no hope 

Now the sheep are scattered.



Part II

But Christ does not stay on his cross 

And all I once thought mattered

Now all else, I count as loss

E'en though the sheep are scattered.


For it's not in vain his body broke 

And his blood is spilled and spattered

For now we are one flock, one folk

Despite the fact we're scattered.


Now he commands us, "Take my grace

To the hurt, the bruised, the battered.

I send you out to every place;

Go now, my sheep, be scattered."

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