Fish Faith

The mesh of net,
That fishes fret,
Descends below
The deep, dark sea.
The violent sloshes,
The boat, it washes,
And on deck above,
The fisherman plea.

The rain, the current, the thunder
Insurgent
But still they continue to heave.
"Ho!" Sam cries. No visibility in their eyes
Yet, they continue to believe.

A fourth, a fifth, and many more after
They pull up the net and release it again.
Each time disappointing,
Empty-handed they seem,
They have pulled the net up nine, now for ten.

No fish, no food.
What would the wives say?
And their children, having stomachs empty and crude.
So they persevered in hope that fish was to come and heaved and hoed till the cows came home.

The smile of God spread across the sky,
In approval of their endurance and faith.
A gill, a fin, and 100 more appeared in the net, as if it was safe.
Shouts of praise rose as they pulled in ther manna.
They cried, and hugged and exclaimed in joy, "Hosanna! Hosanna! Hosanna!"

That mesh of net,
That fishes met,
Sat on the deck above.
A trophy, told, of gleaming gold,
Could simply not compare.
The sweat of men,
That drives them,
Is stemmed from all their love.
Their prize was not of pride, but a prize to share.