Poem October 17, 1988 Issue

Peter at the nets

Jacob R. Moon

I was doing my work.
Casting the broad net
That caught the fish
And bought my family's bread.

Then looking up
I saw him there.
"Follow me," he said.

I'd no idea, then,
What use he could have
For a sun-leathered fisherman, but
I knew that anything he asked of me,
I'd do. I'd try. I would.

For deep inside, I felt the power,
Not just of what I saw in him,
But a hint—a glimmering—
Of what he saw in me.

I turned to follow,
Fingers letting fall the nets.

Jacob R. Moon

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PROFILE

The art of loving and serving others

October 17, 1988

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