The cigar smoldered in his lips

As I walked along the beach. I see the old man fishing. The long pole lags back and launches tackle out in to the waves. Puffs on a cigar and sits back into the sand. Intent battered by many storms his skin old and leathery like the warn wood on the pier. What are you fishing for, I ask. I see you out here all the time. What kind of fish are biting? The rod tips moves back and for with the motions of the waves pulling down and releasing over and over. The old man fixes his brim on his hat. The rod pulls down steady we both look at rod and then at each other. I have always love the beach. The wind ever changing the sand. The waves crashing on the rocks. Theses sound have nevered stop to soothing my soul. Why today I would talk to this man. I seen him year after year growing up on the beach. His was always the same. I was growing and changing with the times following people I shouldn’t, doing things I shouldn’t. This man would always be there, everyday. Same hat, same shirt. But, today I stopped the listen. Taken the time to ask. Lord forgive me. And He replied “stand up and walk with me. I have been fishing for you for a long time.


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