Memories

Summer morning, cold and misty
Rising up at break of day,
Watching all the fishing trawlers
Coming home across the bay -

Reminded me of other fishers
By a warmer, foreign sea,
Mending nets and gutting fishes,
Jesus saying, Follow Me.

Visiting an old cathedral
Children running, voices raised -
Chided them - a priest reminded,
He likes to hear His children play -

And then I thought of other children,
Edging close to Jesus’ knees,
Disciples checked them - Jesus beckoned,
You must be as one of these.

Memories come swiftly, chasing
Through the mind’s abandoned seas
Experiences long forgotten,
Fragile as a summer breeze...

Can I help but love my Lord, who
Shows me gently how to live,
Reminds me how to love my neighbour,
Shows me how I should forgive?

Can I help but love my Saviour
When I fail and can’t explain...
Then He gently lifts and holds me,
Whispers, Christian, try again.