Lower thy nets first here to the left,
Tonight the fish are in hiding--
Carefully trawl the shallows first:
Why travel far from the land
If the fish swim near to the shore,
Why risk the deep and dark waters?
Haul the nets aboard and then
Inspect their contents for a catch;
There's naught but mud and a piece
Of driftwood coated in sandy silt;
To make things worse for the fishers,
The net has been severely torn.
Row back to the shores, row!
Two sturdy pairs of brothers pull
They strain at the boat's oars
As another stands fore and shouts
His commands to the two men who
Man the boat's rudder in the rear.
The brothers do not quarrel tonight,
A small favor for the rest of the men,
For their voices are terrible as thunder,
Their tempers quick as lightning's flash:
They do not blame each other as they
Quickly mend the nets in silence.
A second time they cast off from
The shore, this time moving farther,
To slightly deeper waters, where dark
Shapes swim swiftly round the boat,
They cautiously lower the nets into
The sea's murky abyss, deeper this time.
Again to the left they cast the nets--
It's easier for the right-handed men--
And they drag the nets near the bottom
Of the sea, but catch nothing as yet,
Not one fish is entrapped in the nets,
And now the dawn breaks o'er the horizon.
Upon the land stirs a silhouette,
A man warming his hands by the embers
Of his morning fire, with smoke arising
From the few remaining flames: He calls
Out a greeting to them, though they
Do not yet see enough to recognize Who He Is.
'Cast again!' calls He in the crisp morning
Air, 'For you've tried but twice for fish,
But Thrice is enough I say: an abundant
Haul you'll have, if in Me you'll place
Your trust, and row to the deepest waters,
Far from the sight or comforts of the shore.'
In a daze do they row to the deeps, and
Glance furtively upon the horizon towards
The shore, which is nearly lost to them,
They see only the wisp of smoke from
The man's campfire--this alone is their
Beacon, their guide back to the land.
They lower their nets into the water,
This time to the right of the boat--
Their heading had changed, and so
Must their cast--and the net fell into
The deep water where the shadows swim
And ships to foreign lands would sail.
Soon ere the net was lowered was felt
The first great tug: a fish entrapped,
Now another is caught, and soon a multitude;
'Haul the nets, pull our catch aboard!'
Cries out the craft's leaders, as the boat
Shakes and sways under the net's weight.
The nets held fast as the men slowly
Hauled them aboard, they teemed with
Fish, spilling over onto the deck in
A great multitude--seven score, then ten
And another three--each unique, of every
Type and variety known to these men.
The helmsmen pulled the rudder, and turned
The boat to the shore, guided by the smoke,
The the glow of the fire and now the shore
Is in view; and as the men strained at the oars,
The boat slowly crawled forward, burdened by
The weight of the catch, the men toiled forward.
She sat low in the water now, her sides
Were nearly gunwale from the load of fish,
Still she remained afloat on the calm waters
Of the sea, there was danger neither of
Capsizing nor of really sinking, for the craft
Had been well-made by a skilled Carpenter.
The sun had risen higher since the catch,
It was now morning in full, and their eyes
Could adjust at last to the light which bathed
That shadow on the shore, the unknown figure
Who called to them, now each by his own name,
By the Man Who guided them back to the shore.
At this familiar sound and sight did each
Rejoice, as into focus came their erstwhile
Unseen Guide, jubilant became each of the men,
As He called them to bring the catch to Him,
And to join Him by the warm fire's side.
They were practically overwhelmed with joy,
Their leader not least of all was overcome,
And lightly clad he tucked hi tunic and dived,
He swam upon the the sea where once he'd sunk,
Racing ahead of the boat, he could swim swifter
Than they, and so arrived first upon the shore.
The Man upon the shore hand re-kindled for them
A fire warm and bright, but brighter still
Burned the fires sparked within each of
The fishermen's hearts, the flames in their
Very souls rekindled and reflected by each man's
Eyes, one fire for breakfast, another for holy zeal.
To them now was given a final commission,
A lifelong task to be undertaken by
These men and their successors until the world's
Last day: to ever be the fishers of men,
And also the shepherds of God's own flock,
To lovingly feed His Sheep and protect His lambs.