Fishing Song

Down the path and through the trees.
Dappled sunlight beneath the leaves.
Riffle and pool, a sparkling brook.
Looking for a place to send my hook.
I'm going fishing.
I'm going fishing.

Cast my fly and mend my line;
drift and cast it one more time.
Lose myself to water and sky;
forgetting all life's hows and whys.
I'm going fishing.
I'm going fishing.

Oh, you might think that I waste my days,
and look on idleness with suspicion.
But I know God does not subtract,
from one's life the time spent fishing.

I've fished with my father on a cold, grey sea,
and I've fished with my boys in a warm, lake breeze.
And when they grow, I'll take my grandaughters,
down the path to the sparkling waters.
And we'll go fishing.
We'll go fishing.