The Cod From Abad Poem by Vinaya Joseph

In a bustling port, under skies so wide,
Where the ocean meets land in a rhythmic tide,
Lies Abad, with markets teeming and bright,
A fisherman's haven from dawn till twilight.

Dad would rise with the sun's first gleam,
His heart alight with a merchant's dream,
To Abad he went, through morning's mist,
Seeking treasures the sea had kissed.

With weathered hands and a knowing eye,
He'd scan the stalls where vendors vie,
For attention with their freshest catch,
Each fish a marvel, no two a match.

On a day like many, yet special still,
He found the cod that fit the bill,
A giant, gleaming, robust and grand,
The finest catch in all the land.

Scales like armor, shimmering bright,
Reflecting dawn's soft, golden light,
Its eyes still clear, with tales untold,
Of ocean depths and waters cold.

Dad haggled well, as merchants do,
With words as sharp as morning dew,
He struck a deal with a knowing nod,
And brought back home the prized cod.

In our small shop, with its wooden floors,
Where the scent of the sea mingled with chores,
He placed the cod with a tender hand,
A symbol of bounty, from ocean to land.

But now the task fell upon me,
To clean this fish from the deep blue sea,
With a sigh and a smile, I took my place,
Ready to start this meticulous race.

The cod lay still, as if it knew,
The ritual that would soon ensue,
With knife in hand, I took a breath,
And faced the challenge, the labor, the test.

Scales clung tight, in stubborn defiance,
Each one a testament to nature's alliance,
With the fish's form, sleek and fine,
I scraped and scraped, in rhythm and time.

Flakes of silver, like stars in flight,
Fell to the floor, catching light,
A glittering rain, both beautiful and harsh,
A fisher's chore, in the morning's march.

The skin, so firm, so tightly bound,
A barrier to the treasure found,
Beneath its surface, tender and sweet,
The cod's true gift, a savory treat.

I worked with care, my fingers deft,
Peeling away each layer, each cleft,
Guts and gore, a messy plight,
An odorous challenge in the morning light.

Bones like needles, hidden and keen,
Caught unwary hands in between,
But with each snag, I learned anew,
The careful dance of the fisher's crew.

Dad watched on, his eyes so kind,
A silent teacher, his wisdom lined,
In every glance, in every nod,
He guided me through the journey of the cod.

For this was more than just a task,
It was a bond, a loving ask,
A ritual passed from old to young,
A song of the sea, forever sung.

With patient hands and steady heart,
I cleaned the cod, each separate part,
Until at last, the work was done,
And the kitchen basked in the morning sun.

The cod lay ready, prepared with care,
A feast to share, a joy so rare,
Dad smiled wide, his pride aglow,
In the shop where love and labor flow.

We cooked the cod, its flavors pure,
A dish that held the sea's allure,
With each bite, a story told,
Of Abad's markets, brave and bold.

Of mornings spent in the bustling quay,
Of hands that work, of hearts that stay,
Bound by love, by fish, by sea,
By the ties that bind our family.

In the twilight's gentle, fading light,
We sat together, our hearts alight,
With tales of cod and market stalls,
Of Abad's magic, and ocean's calls.

For in each fish, a world contained,
Of merchant's dreams, and ocean's reign,
A story of life, of toil, of cheer,
Of Dad's proud smile, and love sincere.

So here's to the cod from Abad's bay,
A treasure brought from far away,
A symbol of a father's care,
And the love we find, everywhere.