deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Lamb

The dogwood blooms
With strength and resilience
Itís purity is spiritual for all to behold
A twig covered in an ever-changing silk
The butterfly spreads its wings
As a resurrection to unfold
 
White lilies against a canvas of green
Like tears falling from a broken heart
In a garden between the olive trees
Stands a young sheep like an image of God
A sacrifice for the world, if only you believe
The lamb is a gentle as a springtime breeze

I would see the lamb from time to time
Eventually we became more than friends
Always by my side even in times of despair
My friends didnít approve of me and the lamb
They were friends with the goat on the hill
And worshiped all the birds of the air

They told the goat of our relationship
The goat called upon the wolves of the deep
They crucified the lamb in name of their sins
My heart was broken I didnít understand
I laid the lamb to rest in a field of stone
On the edge of the path where the valley begins

My friends all rejoice lamb is dead
But an empty grave is all theyíll find
The lamb now walks the yellow brick road
He comforts me as Iím never alone
The spirit of the lamb in my heart forever stowed
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