Beneath the golden hue of dawn’s embrace,
A lone figure stands by the tranquil stream,
Casting dreams upon the mirrored face,
Where sunlight weaves a gentle, waking dream.

The water sings its ancient, soothing song,
As ripples trace a pattern soft and deep,
The fisher waits, where patient hearts belong,
In silence where the secrets nature keeps.

The line tugs gently, breaking morning’s spell,
A dance unseen beneath the water’s skin,
In that brief tug, a thousand stories dwell,
Of life and time, in cycles they begin.

As day gives way to twilight’s tender glow,
The fisher smiles, with wisdom newly earned,
For in the dance of rods and reeds below,
The heart’s own deeper tides are gently turned.