Boy with red Cheeks

Just a little boy with red cheeks

whose days are spent with a flock of sheep,

Small in size but great at heart

his song with the strings fills the air

with the fragrance of free-spirited sound.

The hills, the mountains and valleys know

that a young man with red chicks 

revives them with the sound of song

with words that go far and beyond.

who has heard the song

at whose sound spirits are stilled,

the song that resounds in the souls

of prophesied royal descendants?

Who has heard the voice 

of a shepherd watching over his flock,

deeply waiting on greater things to come;

the voice so tender and blessed

it's blessing flies in time

to touch generations beyond the eye

with words instilled from above?

Who has seen the hands

that gently sleep on the harp

with the sound of tranquility and peace,

the hands that sought no praise

but take pleasure in service?

Yes, the very hands

that tore the bear apart

and defeated the lion in field.

Nobody has seen

and nobody has known 

that a mighty heart dwells among us,

veiled by age and size

and humbled by birth.

His name was unknown 

and his posture was despised

but today, as the giant lies a corpse

we shout for joy at his name.

Now what was unknown has become known

and the despised has become admired by all

"Long live David"

the king,the warrior the shepherd, the poet, the harpist,

who was once 

just a boy with red cheeks.

-January 25. 2009