Onward Pressed

O’er parched and sandy earth where sun has killed
All but the most resilient weeds, where spear-
Like winds hurl dust and wolves loom nigh and jeer,
A flock trails near its shepherd wise and skilled
And follows him despite hope unfulfilled.
Through mountain passes narrow, rocky, sheer,
Where enemies from hidden lairs peer,
He leads them, his voice deep in them instilled.
From somewhere out ahead of his drab herd,
His call cuts through the dry and scorching air
And bids them forward though their sight be blurred
And though they often tend to night’s despair.
So onward do they press at his sure word,
Full knowing in the face of death his care.