They had toiled through the night; ‘neath starlight they’d met.
To fish for their future, to fish to forget.
They sailed so they’d silence the sacred, still voice;
It died on the breeze, so it gave them no choice.
And yet they had touched the cruel scars he had worn.
Had felt the flesh warm that had truly been torn.
But this was on Sunday when wounds were still raw,
and sorrow still clouded the vision they saw.
Now breakfast was waiting as boat neared the shore,
and the stranger was standing, but not like before.
His shape and his features none questioned or dared
to ask him his name; they just stood there and stared.
Till heart-knowledge dawned, as the wind kissed his face,
and his shadow lay down in time and in space.
They knew, now, that God was a man through and through,
who\'d crucified Death as a mild-mannered Jew.