Tending to the Mending Heart

With the arrival of the gloaming

She first sees a lost lamb roaming

Appearing to be torn apart,

Narrowly missing a passing cart.

She steps into the cloak of evening shade

Wondering how this child will behave

He’s far from home, that much is clear

Yet his posture gives clue what he wants is near.

For her, a flicker of hope and doubt

Disciplined skill keeps her from crying out.

She’s failed once, that one far from pure.

The second time, she is still not sure

This child here, she’ll never scold

But rather heal his wounds and help him grow bold.