The Shepherd's Crook Poem by Thomas Hooker

Beneath a cool marsh,
lives a pool of umber reeds
while the wind is blowing marigolds,
down the hill, just past the creek.

Climbing higher the flock,
grows larger in their place
following the man, searching
for patches of greener pasture.

Blindly following peers,
fashionably looking the same,
accepting the shepherd's crook
as the days spill over the dam.

To think only as others think,
madness breeds the double,
struggling to be the same,
makes it easier to survive...

Or is it the fear of being lost,
lost in a place with no home,
no difference in flying or falling,
no limits, past or present.

The shepherd crook keeps the masses
calm, he leads them past rocky terrain,
pushing the flock together and managing
those with too much personality.

But, there's always one, one that moves
away from the flock, standing apart,
finding his own grass, as he wanders
off the path, he knows he is alone.