The Magnificent Divine Masculine

He stands at the gate with a shepherds crook

He whistles sweetly yet shrilly

Onlookers can hear them before they are seen

The sounds of excited calls from an enthusiastic flock can be heard

At first it comes randomly from across the paddocks and hillsides.

He whistles again and he smiles as they respond back in unison

They appear at first like water spilling from all corners of the paddock in streams and dribs and drabs from all the hidden places

White and pure and fast

The Flock run to him smiling with enthusiasm

They froclick with joy

The noise becomes a cacophony as they join together moving as one

They no longer require separation from each other

They are silly and unrestrained as they run to him

Even the elders of the flock cannot contain themselves, neither do they try to.

They do not require insistence to come when he calls

They race willingly to his side

They had known to remain hidden during the day awaiting his call

And come they did, at the very first whistle

The second was only for fun

They knew his call

To his side they ran

Circling him, they leapt around him calling loudly in greeting and uncontainable excitement

He honoured them with his care of them

They honoured him with their wool and their warmth

United they were strength against the cold and against the predators that lurk

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