Poem June 14, 1969 ISSUE

MORNING MEAL

John 21:1—17

Richard Henry Lee

Our empty nets proclaimedour empty hearts and hopes,yet dawn of recognitionfilled—fulfilled—them all.

And here ashore, imagine:fuel, fire, food! Didhuman hands prepare? CanLove that filled our net in single moment likewisetend the least detail?Would such resource be oursto "feed my lambs"? Perhaps, but who is worthy to summonsuch a feast? His answeris so simple, certain:All who "feed my sheep," as if some sacred insightopens secret floodgatesjust at hand. But how?"Feed my sheep"—and see!

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