The Good Shepherd in Stained Glass: I AM A LOST LAMB
The Good Shepherd Cathedral, Fairview QC
Photos and Verses by Dr Abe V Rotor
The Lost Lamb
You are everywhere but there's no place I can find You:
on a high rise, in the crowded city,
in the academe, market and mall,
in the theater and concert hall;
I cried out Your name, only to be baffled by the roar of cars,
blaring music of the karaoke,
boisterous parties, unruly rallies,
deafening noise of giant machines;
I tried to touch You like the old woman in the Holy Book,
in the church, in processions,
on a hanging crucifix, and rosary,
religious images on my busy desk;
I have no time, though the city is alive round the clock;
alone I drive on the fast lane,
live in a push subdivision
away from kin and real home;
I am a prisoner in a prison built in the name of progress,
the miracle of science and technology,
the wonder and pleasure of travel,
with social media at my fingertips;
I am lost in cyberspace, in things I seem to understand,
I am the Lost Lamb
in the wilderness of globalization
and postmodernism;
I long to see You, hear You, and touch You.
... through the Storm of Life
Let me go back to my younger years to be with You,
among your little friends and disciples,
where innocence reigns in peace
understanding and joy;
Let me sit beside You and listen to Your stories:
the parables of the Prodigal Son,
the Sower, and the Lost Lamb,
the Sermon on the Mount;
Let me join You in Your walk hand in hand,
to leave my footprints beside yours,
and if I see that I have none, I trust that
You shall have carried me
through the storm of life.~
You are everywhere but there's no place I can find You:
on a high rise, in the crowded city,
in the academe, market and mall,
in the theater and concert hall;
I cried out Your name, only to be baffled by the roar of cars,
blaring music of the karaoke,
boisterous parties, unruly rallies,
deafening noise of giant machines;
I tried to touch You like the old woman in the Holy Book,
in the church, in processions,
on a hanging crucifix, and rosary,
religious images on my busy desk;
I have no time, though the city is alive round the clock;
alone I drive on the fast lane,
live in a push subdivision
away from kin and real home;
I am a prisoner in a prison built in the name of progress,
the miracle of science and technology,
the wonder and pleasure of travel,
with social media at my fingertips;
I am lost in cyberspace, in things I seem to understand,
I am the Lost Lamb
in the wilderness of globalization
and postmodernism;
I long to see You, hear You, and touch You.
... through the Storm of Life
Let me go back to my younger years to be with You,
among your little friends and disciples,
where innocence reigns in peace
understanding and joy;
Let me sit beside You and listen to Your stories:
the parables of the Prodigal Son,
the Sower, and the Lost Lamb,
the Sermon on the Mount;
Let me join You in Your walk hand in hand,
to leave my footprints beside yours,
and if I see that I have none, I trust that
You shall have carried me
through the storm of life.~
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