The Fisherman In Pursuit of Rainbows
Early, before sunrise,
In the cold quiet darkness,
A fisher gathers his flies.
His mind set on the business
Of finding the precious "rainbow"
And collecting the coveted prize.
Coffee abrew o'er the flickering fire,
The fisher watches
As sunlight stabs the sleeping trees;
And as if beckoning to the fisher,
The stream reflects ev'ry stab;
And in each one a fish, the fisher's mind sees.
The brew's duty done,
And the fire doused well,
The fisher walks aside the stream.
He in the shadows, stream in the sun,
Casting to reflections
And not to fish, it would seem.
But nearing a bend in the stream,
The fisher sees a pool;
And in the pool sees a motion.
The movement of a tail,
The reflection of a rainbow,
Its presence much more than a notion.
From the calm quiet depths
The "intended one" watches patiently
For a meal to touch the water.
In the shadows the fisher
Strips line for the cast,
Anticipation making his blood hotter.
In quiet auld rhythms
The fisher's arm swings
Counting down to the final release.
Unseen by his quarry,
Unheard o'er the water
A conflict the fisher begins amid peace.
The fly dries in the air
As it traces widening loops
Through the shade, then into the sun;
Sailing above the water
Ever closer to the target
An enticing shadow for the "intended one".
Weight of line against rod tip,
Forearm shifting in salute,
Line is released with quiet cool;
Eyes asquint in final aim
At the tumbling water
Upstream of the dark calm pool.
The fly now in full color
As it soars t'ward the goal,
Atop an invisible leader... its tether to line;
Parachuting in fateful descent,
To the intended a tasty insect.
To the fisher a feather tied fine.
In its mute fall to water
Fly catches eye of the intended;
A shadow from below springs.
Up from the depths of the dark calm pool
Comes the flash into flight
Of a rainbow as if with wings.
Into motion wheels the fisher,
With forearm flying back.
The rod tip moves just slightly.
As the rod bows low,
The intended one is hooked,
By the feather set right, tightly.
With a turn to the depths
The intended one dives
Stripping line of his own from the reel;
Then with palm on the spool
The fisher slows the descent;
And the fish is caught by his meal.
With respect for his quarry
The fisher works smoothly
To bring the large fish to the net.
Taking their time,
Fish and fisher rest often, knowing
"A more harmonious outcome we'll get".
Once netted the fish stops,
His battle lost,
But the fisher works quickly in awe.
He carefully follows the invisible leader
'Til finger touches fly,
And pops the feather deftly from the jaw.
Slowly releasing his grip
The fisher tosses the net
And steadies the great fish with care.
In whisper he speaks through the water
Of respect and admiration
For his worthy opponent so fair.
The great fish gathers strength
From the oxygen-rich stream;
And one flip of his tail sets him free.
The fisher has his prize-
The rainbow was in his hands.
And with any luck another soon will be.
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