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North American Dreaming: Catch Of The Day

A midnight fishing trip brings the hope of continued serenity to William Burkholder.

To read lots more poems please visit Bill's Web site http://www.freewebs.com/nirvanasgate/index.htm

Midnight fishing at the Sommerheim docks,
Long white pier where the racing jocks,
Launched fraternity scullís,

Kicking back with baited line,
Casting in placid bay,

Loons call,
Moon rises,
Mist floats,
Silent forest on the hill;

Water whispering to me;
Lapping under the boards of the dock.
The fish don't bite,

But aye,
I have caught my fill this evening.

When the bay gives up her true secrets,
And leads me to serenity's quay.

My net's were cast then,
Knowing in some way; not fully understanding;

In those silent meditative hours,
That the depth of my life's experiences
Would be tantamount to the tall buildings
On the evening skylines.

That my pains would be just as deep,
My joys just as tall,
My life just as meaningful.

And after many empty hauls of this, life's net;
I have come to understand,
That it is not so much in the catch,
As it is in the attempt.

As it is in being witness too,
Another's catch of the day.

We all cast our nets,
We cast them daily,
Days when we retrieve them empty,

Days when they are retrieved full,
Full of promise,
Life's accomplishments,

Aye savor these,
Aye save them,
For the days when the nets arenít as full.


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