a boy and girl
I sighed and got dressed. I walked outside in the dark and could hear the young ram lamb (it was Flash) even louder. He was up in the sheep shed but his mother was nowhere to be found? I baaed to the crew, the way I do when they get grain, and 13 adult sheep and two lambs came towards me. In no time flat Flash was reunited with Mom (who was eating hay out of sight of the young ram and I). But wait? Where was number 16? I counted and recounted. Then I decided to walk up the muddy hill to where the cries of the young ram had originally come from.
Inside the sheep shed was a ewe and her twins. One ewe lamb and one ram lamb. A beautiful pair, just a few moments old. In the fading lantern light I touched their warm, new, wool. Mama had cleaned them and they were already standing, looking for milk. As my nearly-dead batteries started to flicker out, removing all light from the muddy shed—I was alone with them in the dark. I reached out, feeling their wool, heard the chortles of their mother and the cries of the new babes.
A boy and girl. How about that? Shown to me by the cries of a young ram on a night where I was so wrapped up in my own story I had forgotten how small it is to the real story out there, high on a hill. What can human drama compare to the awe of birth, or the miracle of twins on a cool night? This farm literally forced me out of bed to meet reality, shook me into my self. I sat in the mud, held the young lambs, and I sang to them as I cried in that dark.
My darling, if I make the Pearly Gates
I'll do my best to make a drawing
Of God and Lucifer
A boy and girl
And angel kissing on a sinner
a monkey and a man
a marching band
All around a frightened trapeze swinger.