The Fletcher: A Poem

Hello All! I tend to write more prose, but every so often, I’ll dabble in poetry. The rhythm, rhyme, and lush imagery all invite me to appreciate the beauty of words, which is what I enjoy blogging about. So, I wanted to share a poem I was inspired to write recently. The allegorical symbol of an arrow has been rolling around in my mind for a while, but I really wanted this poem to capture the idea of redemption, compassion, and brokenness made whole. Hopefully you all enjoy it and it helps you reflect on the true Fletcher.

The Fletcher

Tired feathers,

Worn well beyond their use.

Splintered shaft, 

Warped past given purpose.


An empty shed

Soars suddenly with light.

The Fletcher

Enters the lonely sight.


In the corner, 

Exhausted and abandoned,

The arrow 

Quails, afraid to be handled. 


But He is kind,

His palm gentle to the marrow. 

Blue eyes gaze 

Fraught with tender sorrow. 


Soft, firm steps,

He begins the process,

Making whole 

Each weary brokenness.


It’s stripped away–

The arrow’s crooked form–

And redeemed,

Are the hurts from others born. 


In growth is pain, 

But it dwindles and ends.


Reveals the yearned for mend. 


Beheld amidst 

The dust motes and wood drivel,

Such beauty

Seldom sees a rival.


Glossy feathers

Reflect the Fletcher’s sign.

Wond’rous work!

Tip honed and nock aligned. 


Now made anew,

The Fletcher draws it.

Glorious view!

Aimed true for His intent. 

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