Fisher

I came
to the riverside,
cool can of worms
undercover beside me
fleshy squirming warm
invitations to bite, but
the fish were eating
dragonflies, emerald
hovering, jeweled;
could not be fooled
by a hunger which
was mine alone,
gnawing inside.


Sometimes I write things with my eyes half open. That's how this went. And when I woke, really looked, I saw You in every line, my Fisher-of-Humankind, my Love. I thought of how You came to the Jordan amidst the crowds that day. I thought of "Take, eat, this is my body" and "the Word became flesh." I remembered the prophet Hosea, how his life was an expression of You, pining after us, hungry for us, ever hungry with an everlasting love. I closed my eyes with the thought of all this, in thanks for yet another surprise from words written without intent.