woensdag 26 september 2012

Follow me

Peter at the nets

I was doing my work,
Casting the broad net
That caught the fish
And brought my family’s bread.

Then looking up
I saw him there.
“Follow me,” he said.
I’d no idea, then,
What use he could have
For a sun-leathered fisherman, but
I knew that anything he asked of me,
I’d do. I’d try. I would.
For deep inside, I felt the power,
Not just of what I saw in him,
But a hint—a glimmering—
Of what he saw in me.
I turned to follow,
Fingers letting fall the nets.

Jacob R. Moon

POEM, Christian Science Sentinel, Vol. 90 (17 October 1988), p. 7.

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