In A Cave

Sunlight broke through the thick grey air beneath the rain cloud. It was morning now, but the sky still thundered because the storm did not know the time of day. The sun spot on the hard cold cobble of the cave warmed the stone floor beneath the nook where he lay. Pitter patter of dripping rain echoed from the darkness. A pocket of water gathered right above him; it had been gathering for hours, all through the night.

There was just enough drops of rain held in the cliff now that it began to spill over, only moments after the sun hit the floor. Water splashed onto ruddy hair and he turned his face away from the wet with quickness. He hit the floor below him. His cheek pressed hard against the rough ground, but it was warm. It was the first warmth he had felt in months and it turned the jagged rock into soft surrounding, his scraped flesh into fading past memory and the blood that broke through into joyous evidence of the light shining in his eyes.
 

He could lay there for hours. In the distance he heard the moaning of a sheep. It must have gotten lost in the darkness of the storm, separated from its heard. The sound reminded him of his father and he felt peace as he fell back asleep thinking of him and how he taught him to be a brave shepherd. In his dreams he visited the times he came up against the growls of the bear and the roarings of the lion. There were always wolves wanting a sheep. His fathers voice hovered over him as he defeated every throe of  death, his lessons engrained in his instincts. His dream took him to the time he counted all the sheep and discovered one was missing. He knew exactly which one it was because he named her; it was the unusually light one. She stood out amongst the rest. That day he tried his hardest to find the sheep but he couldn't remember any lesson about loosing a sheep. He couldn't hear his father's voice flying in the wind to guide him. With all his might and wit he tried to find her, but to no avail. Finally he stopped to catch his breath and his memory took him to the time he ran and played in the rolling hills of the valley. He couldn't see his brothers or his poppa, but over the hill he heard a voice call his name and he knew where to turn to find home.

The young shepherd lifted his head and shouted "Eli'ora!" knowing that the sound of his voice would be recognized by the sheep. He waited a few seconds and then bursting through the silence like laughter was a loud  "bahh." Eli'ora was running towards him. She ran as if she knew both the sound of her own name and her masters voice. He picked up the sheep and carried her back to where she belonged. As he walked towards familiar pastures he wondered why his father never told him what to do when he lost a sheep.

He thought to himself, "maybe he never thought I would loose one... or maybe he never did."
 

With his dreams lifting away he began to wake up. He opened his eyes for half seconds at a time, still tired and still wanting to lay in the warm sun.  Another dream began to enter his mind but as he drifted towards a deep sleep he heard a familiar voice.

It was the voice of his father. 

"Wake up David. Come home."

He was hidden in a cave.
He is a shepherd. He is a king.