Gentle Falls

Gentle falls

The silent foot

Upon the stones

Of time;

Wading through

Th'glorious streams

And watching

For a sign;

Of darting forth

Or rolling o’er

How e’er the

Fish will out.

Revealed to

One who holds

The reel and slowly

Moves about.

Who sets the

Hatch one finds

So near upon

The end of line;

Who casts it back

And puts on power

To land for

Fish to find.

Who sets the hook

And who is set

upon by tethered

meal.

Who is reeling

in the catch

And who is

being reeled.

I it is

Upon the line

What end

I cannot say;

Nor know

If I pull in

Or out - just

Pull with no delay.

Who spies the

Fly what gentle

Falls on riffles

Of the stream,

Who chases down

With swiftest speed

And bites upon

Its dream.

Write the words

Upon my heart

Of how to catch

The fish

Or how to flee

From fisher-folk

Far and away

My only wish.

Of how to dress,

And poach it well

And place it on

The dish

But once

It is devoured

And, no more

In space or time

It will be

my eternal Quest

to find Who’s

Thine or mine.

And sure I am

That oft’ will change

Of who has who

On line.

Sometimes poems come in dribs and drabs of meaning and sound.  This one, is sort of mimicking THE HOUND OF HEAVEN, only it is about a fish and the fisher-folk.  Not sure whether the me (the I am of the voice) be the divine fisher or the divine fish.  The alleged catcher or the catch. 

The poem is meant to bounce back and forth between thinking we can draw a conclusion and then again, that we cannot.  Writing takes a deep trust in the recesses of the soul, and that it will release what it has hold of - at some point.  I am expecting there may be more verses for this as days where on.