Early in the morning, on New Zealand’s eastern shore, the sun was barely halfway up and barely dressed before the people came with rods and bait, willing up their breakfast feast from Neptune’s salty store.

I will make you fishers of men, I heard His words once said, and remembered how He told them then that life was more than bread.

The light was shining in the east and spread across the bay, gilding touches to sea and sky with all their shades of grey. No ball of fire, no solar disc, no heat to scorch the air but just a glimpse of glory hidden out beyond the sphere.

I am the light of the world, I heard His words again, and remembered how He told them all to follow Him and then no more would darkness reign.

The people stood and faced the light, but watched their rods and lines, or clambered up the driftwood beach not looking at the signs.

If you love me, my commands obey, I heard my Master say, and watched the people pack their things and blindly drift away.

They left me standing on the beach gazing at the light, seeing only He who beckons me, a captive to His might. My line is cast, the sea is wide, the people need a prayer. And if some enigmatic breath rustles in the air then know that I am fishing… and that He is very near.