In the early morning mist, he cast his line,
Into the river where time intertwines.
Whispering winds carry tales untold,
Of a soul at peace, as the waters unfold.
His old boat drifts in the gentle embrace,
A journey uncharted, to a timeless place.
The sun rises slowly, painting skies anew,
Reflecting the memory of his life’s hue.
Gone fishing, they say, in the tranquil stream,
Beyond the horizon, where spirits dream.
Each ripple a memory, each wave a sigh,
In the quiet solitude, where echoes lie.
Though heâs gone, his laughter remains,
In the rustling leaves, in the gentle rains.
A fishermanâs heart, forever at rest,
In the river of time, where heâs truly blessed.