Styx In Disguise

 

John loved the river, the whisper and breeze,
Casting his fly through the shade of the trees.
Hours would vanish beside silver streams,
More than a hobby—he lived for these dreams.

 

One day he stood at the bright pearly gates,
St. Peter just said, “You’ve got a great fate.”
He led John down to a river so wide,
With glittering fish jumping out of the tide.

 

A reel made of wonder was placed in his hand,
Fine boots and gear, they were perfectly grand.
John cast his fly and before it could land,
He hooked a big fish as if it were planned.

 

The joy’s in the casting, the chance and the play,
The fear that the fish might just slip away.
The thrill isn’t winning each time and each day,
The joy’s in the casting, the chance and the play.

 

Again and again every throw was a prize,
Huge shining fish leaping up to the skies.
John laughed with delight as he reeled every one,
Endless success in that bright shining sun.

 

But soon he cried out, “St. Peter, come here!
Something feels empty and strangely unclear.
There’s nothing to solve, no skill to refine,
Each cast is a win—and it’s every damn time.”

 

“What made it exciting was learning the stream,
Changing the lure and adjusting the scheme.
The risk and the waiting, the art and the try,
Not certain success that falls out of the sky.”

 

The joy’s in the casting, the chance and the play,
The fear that the fish might just slip away.
The thrill isn’t winning each time and each day,
The joy’s in the casting, the chance and the play.

 

St. Peter just grinned with a dark little leer,
“You thought this was heaven? It’s just a veneer.”
For life is a game where the brave hearts engage,
Where loss and where victory dance on the stage.

 

We hide in safe waters where nothing’s at stake,
But dull are our lives when no chances we take.
To live is to wager with courage and art,
For risk is the fire that brightens our hearts.