Heed my words children. Listen close to my tale,
For we are about to begin a Journey of unprecedented scale.
Now every word I say to you is absolutely true, I swear.
This story is as real as you, sitting in your chair.
In my early days walking the woods,
I would often meet travelers selling different goods.
One such person, was a wizened old woman,
Selling trinkets and keepsakes, jewels and potions.
I told her I was an outdoorsman, a fisher at that.
To me she said, “Let’s see what I’ve got in back.”
Out of her wagon she pulled three fishing rods.
She said I could only buy one, so I’d have to play my odds.
I chose a sturdy Bait Caster, solid and true.
It felt mighty in my grip. A good decision, I knew.
I paid the woman’s fee, and went on my way.
I turned back to wave goodbye, but she disappeared without a trace.
Strange I thought, this particular chance meeting,
But lucky, I felt, I could now go fishing.
Further down the trail, I came upon a lake.
I waded up to my knees and began casting bait.
As soon as my lure touched the glassy water,
A gust of wind came up, followed by lightening and thunder.
Not a single bite came, and the storm intensified.
The rod felt hot, painful and electrified.
I could hear fish laughing. My rod began to shake.
A tree fell beside me. The shore began to quake.
When, at last, I thought, I could hold the rod no longer.
It jumped from my hands and swam away like a serpent in the water.
Terrified, I fled. Not knowing what happened.
What was that rod? Who was that woman? I felt defeated and saddened.
That night, I curled up beneath the knotty pines.
Sheltered from the storm, I tried to rest my eyes.
When I woke, the sun was rising. The birds had come to life.
I found myself in a clearing, lost, but alive.
As my belly grumbled and I tried to get my bearings,
I heard a familiar noise. A wagon’s wooden wheels turning.
I ran fast as I could after the sound.
There was the woman. She said, “I wondered when you’d come around.”
“You sold me a cursed rod!” I spat in her face.
She calmly stated, “It was your choice which rod to take.
Why not try again? After all, only two remain.”
She held out both rods. I examined their length.
One was familiar, a Spin Casting beauty.
The other was different. On it was written: “Rise Level Series.”
I’d never seen a rod quite like this before.
“It is for fly fishing, my dear,” was the old woman’s retort.
I wasn’t quite sure what I should do,
But there was something about that fly rod, somehow, I knew.
I decided at once “I’ll take the fly rod!”
She handed it to me. Gave me a smile and a nod.
When the rod touched my hand, I heard an angelic song.
A warm light surrounded me, then POOF! She was gone.
When I came to a stream, it was like second nature.
This rod knew what to do, so I listened to her.
The first cast came fast. My arm rose quickly.
The rod was my hand. It was a piece of my body.
Smooth, shot the line, unfolding a tight loop in air.
The rod had my eyes. Line flying like a strand of hair.
The rod was the captain, and I was her daughter.
Proudly watching her sail out to deep water.
Then came the take. My arm shot up.
Cinching my line. Feeling the tug.
Heavy was the pull. Deeply, the rod bent.
A wake issued forth. Upstream, the fish went.
After an amazing fight, this fish swam to my feet.
“Your rod is something special,” He said, “To you, I concede.”
I called it a draw, and let the fish swim away.
For I knew it was the rod responsible for this take.
Now listen, children, please, to the words I have said.
For you may find yourselves with this same choice ahead.
When you reach for that rod, think twice which you choose.
It may make a world of difference for the future you pursue.
For a rod isn’t just a rod. No, it can be so much better.
It could be a magical fly rod, or a cursed Bait Caster.