Their night out on the lake, no doubt, was long,
Pursuing fish wherever fish may lurk.
Though instinct of a fisher's seldom wrong,
Gennes'ret yielded nothing to their work.
And now at sunrise, work must shift to shore
With nets and boats to clean and dry and mend.
As callings go, to fish can seem a chore:
The toil of catching, cleaning has no end.
A rabbi steps into their boats to teach
To cast their netting once more overboard.
The draught of fish they haul onto the beach
Transforms their lives. They come to call him "Lord."
Despite our doubt and dread, Lord, call us, too.
With gracious instinct, give us tasks for you.
"The Miraculous Draught of Fishes," Peter Paul Rubens (1618-1619)
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