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Poetry > My Friend Frank
MY FRIEND FRANK
|Table of Contents|
|Believing is the Answer|
Now, my daddy would be right there,
When he dad the line in the water,
It didn't seem to matter for dad or Frank,
The times I went along with my dad
But, daddy would say that it just takes more
Frank reminds me of my dad,
You know... thinking about life, living, friends and family, philosophy and fishing, living and being, God and us... I get melancholy yes, but perhaps, even more I feel a growth in the things that matter. Speaking from a human perspective, I'm not certain how I, or anybody, really knows the things that matter. Many would say that fishing doesn't matter, while a fisherman might say that loving or praying doesn't matter... that believing isn't just whether God is, or was, or ever will be... but also taking the time to quiet oneself on the bank of a quiet, flowing stream and wait, believing is possibly making a definite statement about God... life and living.
My friend Frank has helped me to understand much about these things... made me understand that cup of coffee, a firm handshake without words, a quick reply to a question or statement with "Sounds good to me"... makes me feel good about myself, my faith, and what he and I do about the gift that God gave each one of us for our living.
This next writing came upon me a few years ago, probably about the time I first met Frank, about the time when I came to realize that there is life on all sides of the Cross, and its gift to us... His Son, living, being, friends, fishing and believing...
|The Back Side of the Cross|
The man who hung in blatant pain
We who stand yet in defiant pride,