My fellow clergy all served God,
and Spoon River, the best they knew how.
But I could not help but wish that
they had done more listening and less
talking. They fancied themselves as
shepherds. But the Lord does not want sheep.
He wants us to be whales, full of
power, beauty and grace, a pod that
spans the world, singing a song of
Love. Whales have no shepherds. Just hunters.