One(Hundred)

He sings his care for the one-hundred.

He lives with eyes, loving as a mother’s, fixed upon them.

His heart burns with zeal, firry as a lover’s.

He keeps the one-hundred united though thick and thin.

One-hundred is his heart beat.

One-hundred is his devotion.

His heart sinks in sadness and pity when one wanders into shadow.

He leaves the one-hundred in concerned pursuit.

To the lost he chases, to the ends of the earth he races.

Day after day he searches, as a father for his vanished son.

He traverses pain, time, and worry in quest of the one.

Finally, after braving peril, and agony he reaches the pinnacle of his journey: He finds the one.

He runs in glorious embrace, as the sun meats the morning sky.

He reaches the one, all innermost love emerges; He cries for joy.

With the one, he returns to the 99, triumphant as a war-winning nation.

Forevermore the flock stands in unison as migrating geese.

Forevermore the flock rests in the watch of the master.

Smiling, he watches our ways, as a body united.

As a migrating buffalo returns, so he never abandons us.

When one wanders, he follows; he longs to lead him home.

Relentlessly he never abandons his passion to save the one.