The Bottle
I swam out to an island once
It wasn't that far off
A mile, perhaps a little more
For sure it twas enough
I went to see if I could find
A place upon the sand
Where I might sit in silence
And seek out the great I Am
And all the blues and all the greens
Began to come together
I wanted to take hold of it
And no not leave, not ever
For there are spaces in our lives
When doubt is held at bay
And just for half one second
Understanding comes our way
When He is me and I am Him
And heavens in our lungs
That measurement of great or small
Is equal cause we're One
And we can visualize a place
Where love is so divine
And hate and war and grief and death
Are tossed like sour wine
And just when I was at that place
Where God was in my hand
There came a wayward bottle
I could see and in it had
A rolled up peice paper
With a tiny rubber band
I didn't want to open it
Disturb this litte vase
But what if this was meant to be
Gods rightful time and place
So straight away the cork came off
And I began to wonder
Was it written by a castaway
Or some forlorn lost lover?
And on the piece of paper
Dated 1942
Was the story of a soldier
In a place called Vanatu
And while on base he missed his love
And he was feeling blue
And hoped the waves would make it drown
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poem by Sara Fielder
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