Peter’s fishing trip after the crucifixion…
We put out to sea when it was still dark.
This time of day we stay close to the shore
Casting and waiting for the fish to rise
But hours later the nets were stark
Never known the catch to be so poor
Then a figure calls, shading their eyes
“Throw the nets on the other side of the boat”
Nothing else to do, we pulled in then threw…
So many fish – would we even stay afloat?
How did John see so long before I knew?
That voice, that stance, could it be him?
My shirt is off and then I dive in
Swimming, wading, stumbling onto the beach
It was him, Jesus – Messiah and teacher
Then the fire, charcoal, the memory of three…
Denials at another fire on another morning
The fear too strong despite his warning
Now all he says is “do you love me?”
“Do you love me?”
“Do you love me?”
“Feed my sheep”
I could only weep
A moment of guilt, a moment of shock…
… and so my commission, tending his flock…
… begins…