I am not the lost sheep

I am not the lost sheep,
I am not the prodigal son.
I obediently stayed at home,
I am with the other 98.

I envy the lost sheep,
I am jealous of the prodigal son.
My father killed not the calf for me,
My shepherd has not carried me home.

I stumble within the herd,
I falter in my work,
But my father is watching for my brother,
My shepherd is out searching for the lamb.

I stare at the pit,
I know where to find sin.
I know that a rebuke is still attention,
That to be dragged by the neck is still to be touched.

But the shepherd sees my mind,
My father’s disapproving eyes make me consider.
So I return home, untouched,
I back away from the pit.

I hide in the center of the herd,
I work the fields with the servants.
But he left the party to talk,
And he reached out his staff
To tap my head.
He cares for me.