In a crowded intersection,
He stood.
Proud and erect, directing the flock
By his meek presence.
They moved around him,
Shaped into a proper flow
In easy rhythm.
He gave no signals,
Made no gestures.
He smiled, he looked,
Into the eyes of each driver,
Silently directing.
The cars swirled about him;
He was not afraid.
As Jesus before him,
He loved his sheep.
He raised his sign
In silent prayer
That all might read the good news.
It read:
“Will work for food.”
