Psonnets of Worship
See Me Upon His Shoulders?

When I consider precious blood which ran,
slain Lamb of God, need I a fatted calf?
The hooves of oxen tread the wheat and chaff,
and after nail-pierced hands take up the fan
to throughly purge me of this carnal man,
come still the waters wept, and let me laugh.
O Shepherd, comfort me with rod and staff,
and bear me to the flock where I began.
See me upon His shoulders, lifted up?
He carries me again from whence I strayed
unto the pastures where the sifted sup
and pastors feed the ninety-nine who stayed
to eat of His meat, and drink of His cup,
and lie in His bosom, where I shall be laid.
~ by Michael Rew / Email: witness@psonnets.org

Table of Contents / Meet the Author / New Poems / Links