poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “lamb”

back into your busy world

how far you’ve roamed
little lamb
chased away by barking dogs
on the hunt for a scent
nothing to do with
the likes of you

further lost day after day
tip-toeing on pins & needles
the rock tricky
& occasionally vertical
hopefully opening to a surprise
on the other side

another sleepless night
gave way to northern winds
bringing with it
dreams of the future
retracing countless steps
back into your busy world

june two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

Little Bo Peep’s Awakening

She wore a cotton dress on a warm
and sunny day
slightly off-white and sleeveless
complementing and accentuating
her light brown skin

He wore his casual Sunday best
strolling along
white button-down oxford shirt
starkly contrasting pleated charcoal slacks
creased perfectly

Sitting on park bench imagining
her breathing slows
her inner thoughts pressing on
unaware of sights and sounds passing by
before her eyes

From out of the fold he reappears
like a lost lamb
wandering most aimlessly
a blot on the vastness of her dreamscape
off-black yet bright

november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

the ides of march is near

they say march can be a lion
some say she’s gentle like a lamb
I say she’s no different
than I’ve ever known her
all my years living in this land

march two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

when the lion awakens from within

so much dark emotion lives
deep within us
locked away from centuries past
idling by and unafraid
able to unleash itself
most unexpectedly

almost anything can spark
its wickedness
awakening from dormancy
and revealing bloody secrets
only unknown ancestors
ever knew subsisted

like a lion suddenly enraged
you rush from out of the bushes
rip apart the innocent lamb
quietly devouring
any remnant of yourself

june two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

feeding the flock

they awaken on sundays
and praise the one who gave them life

they put on their finest clothes
and take to the streets
huddled together like little lambs
moving at the command of their shepherd
who leads them down the narrow way
toward the altar of life

as they march they recite
words from the ancient book
raising their hands
toward the open sky
asking for forgiveness
and vowing to repent

when the hour comes
to prepare the table
they shamelessly offer
the most innocent
as an imperfect sacrifice

february two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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