Dogged Pastoral by Jonathon Penny
by Patricia | 8.24.12
Sometimes the shepherd, too, is lost
And lonely as that sheep;
As tender and as terrified,
As restless in his sleep.
Sometimes it’s him needs looking for
Among his scattered flock.
Sometimes he’s moss and martyr, though
The sheep prefer him Rock.
Sometimes the shepherd’s crooked and
Sometimes he is forlorn.
Sometimes he bleeds and maunders, for
Sometimes the shepherd’s shorn.
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Jonathon Penny took his MA in Renaissance literature at BYU and his PhD in 20th Century British literature from the University of Ottawa. He has taught at universities in the U.S. and Canada, and now lives with his family in Al Ain, United Arab Emirates where he is Assistant Professor of English at UAE University. He has published on Wyndham Lewis and apocalyptic literature and is currently at work on several books of poetry for precocious pipsqueaks under the penname “Professor Percival P. Pennywhistle.†Bits and pieces may be found here. In addition to verse published on WIZ, his poetry has appeared at Victorian Violet Press and in Gangway Magazine and Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought. Several of his poems have also been published in the landmark, recently released poetry anthology, Fire in the Pasture, from Peculiar Pages Press. Jonathon also is Wilderness Interface Zone’s poetry editor.
August 24th, 2012 at 1:43 pm
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Well put.
August 29th, 2012 at 5:41 am
This poem reminds me of every bishop I’ve ever known on a personal, non-ecclesiastic level. “Sometimes he’s moss and martyr though / the sheep prefer him Rock” captures this particular sentiment in the poem for me—so often a bishop is trodden upon and maltreated by the members of his own ward, members who expect an unrealistic degree of perfection from a very human servant.
Of course, this reading can be expanded beyond the role of bishop to every sincere saint, doing their best and inevitably failing.
The urgency of the underlying call to allow space for each other’s humanity builds rhythmically throughout each stanza; the relentless pace of the repeated “Sometimes …” drives the poem forward, propelling (hopefully) readers into charitable actions as they finish the final driving stanza.
Careful poetic construction leading to thoughtfulness, reflection, action—well put indeed.
August 30th, 2012 at 10:51 am
Dearest JennyW: thanks. And yes.
August 30th, 2012 at 10:54 am
The only thing I would add is that the pronouns could easily be feminine, as well. But to mix them felt a bit put on, so I left them as they are. But any RS or YW or Primary leader can easily commiserate.
August 31st, 2012 at 4:31 pm
I’m reminded by your poem of Virgil’s Ecologues, which is perhaps where the whole pastoral tradition of poetry begins. As I remember it, the Ecologues start with a shepherd being dispossessed of his land, and then wandering through the wilderness to find and claim a new paradise. In a sense this is the story of humanity, especially when seen through the lens of the fall and atonement. The dogged shepherd you present is a common story, and one that rings true. Thank you for sharing.
September 2nd, 2012 at 1:31 pm
Thanks, Jeremiah. That’s high praise, indeed.
I’ll be in touch soon about that other thing. (Haven’t forgotten.)