Poem: Fishy Calling

Standard

Tis a dangerous thing
When our praises we sing
For the role that we play
When we stand up to pray

Tis a good thing to preach
And on Sundays we teach
Don’t you muzzle that ox
He’s worth gold from Fort Knox!

Yet we still must beware
Of putting on airs
When our jobs on the line
Representing divine

Jesus said to not bother
Calling anyone father
Have we screwed up our soul
By playing that role?

Or maybe the curse
Took a turn for the worse
When I paid one to be
The job He gave me

I must be the priest
To reach for the least
I must be the saint
Who goes where God ain’t

The jobs in the church
Are just so much merch
The real game is played
Where souls need be saved

The calling is real
He calls me to heel
And fish where He goes
In a world full of woes

So let’s pay the cost
To be one with the lost
Is it not worth the price
To share footsteps with Christ?