The Herder

The Herder Words are racing by as a yacht making blue water white. Should I now think in nautical terms, say, a bad seascape painting of crested waves, which looks like clotted cream? When I’m thinking of sheep that feed on sun yellow grass on a field dotted with olive trees? Bedouins unlike cowboys feel no disgrace looking after them. Biblical peace, that is before walls were erected and common land absorbed in the name of nationhood. I know naught, land has changed hands for thousands of years and will do so again, but I pity the olive tree it takes a long time bearing fruit, when it does the walls will be used as building stuff for modest homes. Peace will be restored, but not forever humanity is, even if it talks about it, not made for peacefulness. The man with the biggest flock of sheep will always want more land.