The rhythm of the day,
God’s hands shaping clay.
This book called the sea,
My fisherman thinker
I want to sit there on your spot...
Exactly the same to see what you got
In line with your brain
I want what you gain.
You stare out ahead
Not a move, like the dead
But what do you see and what do you think
Your eye is the path to the oceans full link.
Does the water mesmerize you on its hook?
Do you read the movement like a book?
Do you see God there linger?
Drawing patterns with His finger?
Or is there a storm raging in your head?
About things at home and things that you dread?
But the stress will escape
through the rod to the bait
As the sea is the gate
for the patient who wait.
My fisherman stranger
Do you know about the manger?
Where God reels us in
To follow now Him
Catch the fish while you can
Then the fish will be man.
Take this hook, line and sinker
my fisherman thinker.
And with great power the apostles were giving their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all.