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a fisherman’s lure

Struggle to release the bait
Dismayed by the empty catch
Tomorrow I’ll wake up
Today I have made up
My mind
To cast another day
To practice patience
To ignore discouragement
When the pickings are thin
And my face is chagrined
I’ll have my silence to save me.

A trained eye to see the tide
A tuned ear to listen for the ripples
Of the current swift
And of the salmon’s drift
My body
Hastens to the needs
Harkens to the call
Enraptured by the school
Alone with a single thought
That I stand out,
I rise up from the mirky sea.

Sometimes I forget
That I am the trophy, the prize
I fell for the cast
I am now made to last
My soul
Swims in an ocean
No longer in my almighty pond
I fend for myself
I have a family to feed
Behold the glory of the Lord
As my pole swings through the reeds. 

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About R. Ward

A husband, father, teacher, and struggling man of God.

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