The Gate is Wide Open

Emma Paulus '26

The field is full of them

Grazing, grateful, glazed in the gold of early morning.

They follow the One ahead,

because following is the only map they carry.

They do not question the vivid green pastures,

They do not ask why the grass is sweet here, 

They only lower their heads and eat,

Trusting the ground and its roots beneath them

The way the innocent always do;

Completely

Unwaveringly

But one has wandered.

Past the blackened tree line, past the familiar smells

Where the grass thins and the shadows do not behave in the ways that they should.

She is not rebellious. She is just

Lost. 

The way we all can get

lost; 

Slowly

Then all at once.

And then He leaves.

Leaves the ninety-nine in their olive green serenity,

Walks into the escaping light without hesitation,

Because the gate is not a wall,

Its not a warning,

But a Sheperd who will cross any field to find you.

The white fence stands between both directions, both decisions,

And the gate swings on a single hinge

Like the way mercy does;

Never fully shut,

Never asking you to climb.

She returns

Wool-matted, trembling,

And the gate receives her like it always knew she as coming

Like His arms were always

Standing open

For exactly this long,

Waiting for her.