Monday, 9 December 2013

What do fisherman think?

Spotted a lone fisherman on my walk this morning. Almost went to sit next to him to ask some questions, but stopped myself. Now I am home and I wonder.

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.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
10 Dec 2013
Today I spoke to my fisherman. He is a retired gentleman and spends up to 4 hours fishing at a time. And what does he think?
Peace. He says he is just totally peaceful and forgets about the world. It is just him and the ocean. That is how it should be.  I told him that my foster father told me that the time  fishermen spend fishing, is not counted to their age. No wonder he looked so young.
 
 
The first time I approached my fisherman, he had no front teeth. The perfect image of being who you are when you fish. Then when I asked to take the photo, the teeth reappeared in their place.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Beach Dance
The sea at the bottom the sea at the top
Reflecting each other God ordered its job.
From one end to the other
The colours are made
From darkest to brightest and lightest of shades
With me in the centre the smallest of space
But God gave His breath and made me His race.
So all of this bigness and wonders I see,
I do seem so little, woe dust it is me.
Then like the breakers my Jesus fell down
Spilling his blood like a wave without sound
And out of the darkness he carried me up
To share in His likeness I drank from His cup. 
And wonders of wonders saved by the King
Seated in heaven sealed with His ring.
To live now forever come walk here with me
Make Jesus your Saviour and dance by the sea.
 
Bethesda
Ankles anchored in front line waves
eyes mesmerised, by Niagara caves.
The pool of  Bethesda is stirred
My soul in the water emerged.
each wave to my God subside
Not haphazard, moon hypnotised
Arms splash up in praise
Domino’s reaction, Mexican wave.
The rhythm of the day,
God’s hands shaping clay.
 This book called the sea,
the Bible and me.
Same Book, new story,
from glory to glory
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please leave a comment about this post, however please note, all posts are moderated and abusive posts will be removed.