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The Fisherman In Pursuit of Rainbows

Updated on April 21, 2013
The Stream
The Stream

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.

Sunlight and Shadow
Sunlight and Shadow

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.

Again and Again
Again and Again

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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    • Mr. Smith profile image

      Mr. Smith 5 years ago from California

      Thanks, Brother Stars. Only a fisherman could be that enthusiastic. You must know the feeling.

      Thanks again!

    • stars439 profile image

      stars439 5 years ago from Louisiana, The Magnolia and Pelican State.

      You have a wonderful touch in your poetry that is awesome, and profound that is bold, yet touches the heart like the presence of God. You are a magnificently brilliant writer with a little of Heaven, and earth in your soul. God Bless You, and all that you cherish.

    • Mr. Smith profile image

      Mr. Smith 6 years ago from California

      Thank you, da. I know this is true... most of my fish stories are about the one that got away.

    • dahoglund profile image

      Don A. Hoglund 6 years ago from Wisconsin Rapids

      The challenge of the chase is often more important than the prize.

    • Mr. Smith profile image

      Mr. Smith 6 years ago from California


      I was up in the darkness and gathering the necessities when this came to mind. I was fishing in a favorite place of mine; and I've been there too many times to count, and too many years ago to admit. But I love it, and I love the memories of my daughters there with me.

      Reading your works leads me to think of even more meaningful "fishing trips". Keep writing.

    • skye2day profile image

      skye2day 6 years ago from Rocky Mountains

      Mr Smith Brother this is so fine indeed. It is moving beautiful heartfelt touching clever awesome and inspiring. The Spirit of God touched me to the core of my soul in His unsurpassed beauty and you my Friend are gifted. This is a 10+ that is for reels. Get it ( tee hee) I have helped to link this out. You need to enter this in a big poetry contest. It is supercalifragilisticexpealadocous. Pray your girls are all well and happy. They are Blessed to have you for a daddy. Hugs Many Blessings at Thanksgiving and always.

      In Christ Jesus.

      I finished slave and master head on over for a read when you get a minute from the daughters. I am 1 in 4 daughters. I have 3 daughters. Wow Girls rule Kidding,Not

    • Mr. Smith profile image

      Mr. Smith 6 years ago from California

      Thank you. You're very kind. I'll read your suggestion.

    • anndavis25 profile image

      anndavis25 6 years ago from Clearwater, Fl.

      Loved it. Artistry in your words. Clarity in thought and vision.

      Awesome. I know a book you would enjoy. Lost Lake by Mark Slouka.