Reclaiming the Rod

Today was bliss, a day of skies so wide.

First time in twenty years, I fished with pride.

Freed from shadows that clung to my soul.

I sought the waters where peace might console.

A boy once broken, each day filled with strife.

Enduring cruelty from the one who gave life.

In darkness, I fought, my spirit contrite.

Till the day came, I faced his tormenting might.

Sent away, the years were cold and long.

But prison walls couldn't mute my song.

I served my time, each night a silent prayer,

for the freedom of skies, and waters fair.

Now, the river whispered, calling me back,

to cast away sorrows, let none attack.

The rod in hand, a symbol of my fight,

for freedom, for peace, for love, for light.

Caught up in the beauty of freedom’s embrace,

the gentle ripple, the sunlight's grace.

I had forgotten the dance of hook and line,

Twenty years can make a memory resign.

But as I stood there, by the river's flow,

The past dissolved, and the present did grow.

The fish would bite, and I would learn anew,

to set the hook, and let the old pains stew.

For in that moment, I was not the scarred,

but a man reborn, with a softened guard.

The water's edge, my sanctuary found,

A place where my spirit could truly rebound.

The abuse, the prison, the shadows of old.

Now stories of strength, in silence, are told.

With each cast, each line, I reclaim my name.

A man who survived, who conquered the flame.

Today was bliss, and tomorrow will be bright,

for I've found my peace in the river’s light.

The hook is set, the past now reeled in,

a new journey begins, where freedom is akin.