Peter

He called me
Simon, son of John,
and instantly
my mind went back
to the day
three or so years ago
when the very same thing
had happened,
and
He had called me
Simon, son of John.
So much had happened
in those few years;
so many
exciting,
inexplicable,
frightening,
glorious
things.
Things;
times
I would not have missed
for the world.
But
they were over.
Life had to go on.
A living had to be earned.
The ‘Peter’
of those years
was no more.
I had thought
I could live up
to the name;
thought
I was invincible.
I liked the idea
of being
‘a rock’,
solid,
dependable.
I had imagined
myself
taking the lead;
being the man
to solve any problems;
to sort out any crises,
but what had I done?...
Run away,
and worse…
I had denied Him.
I had failed.
The dream;
the new beginning
was over.
I was back to being
Simon, son of John.
Simon, the fisherman.
It was better that way…

But,
He was here.
He was with me
and
that feeling;
that fire;
that excitement;
that life
stirred again
in my heart.
and
I knew
I could not go back.

© Kathleen Wilks