Who Are They?

They cackle like hens
under the jealous glare
of the Master of Scorn

Instead of soaring like eagles
under the loving gaze
of the Heavenly Father

They peck and scratch and search
for crumbs of happiness
never knowing

They can feast of joy’s fullness
at the Master’s Table
if only they’d look up

And when the teacher nears
they shy away
scampering here and there

Leaving him hurt and alone
to return to the Savior’s presence
where His angels await

Yet again