(God’s Sonnet by Timothy J. Verret)
You won’t find me a fisherman of fish.
I don’t do hooks and bait and worms and scales.
You won’t find me a fisherman of wish-
ful thinking that I alone deserve hails.
Once upon dark times, I was a “fish man.”
I “fished” for compliments and praise, deep led.
I cast “soul pole” to hook you as you ran.
But the hook pierced my soul, ripped me all red.
I have retired my pole of “fish flatter.”
You don’t have to approve of me, my wants.
I got God’s Receipt that adds I matter.
I let not demons surface-dump my haunts.
Some say they are fishermen of men’s ways.
But I am a fisherman who “lake prays.”