Once upon a time forever before,
a tale was written forevermore.
upon completion,
the Author thrust the finished version into IT’s vessel,
He sealing it tightly and tossed IT lightly
from the sands into the roaring sea,
where it danced into the maelstrom merrily
In an instant, calming the furious waters.
Oh, what a thing, He’d loved that script mightily.
Making it the perfect peace offering.
The message in a bottle set sail
Baring an unthinkable tale into the dawn breaking.
A white horse, a harbinger sent sailing above and beneath.
Bound to the sail of victory.
Tethered to the author of everything.
Locked and loaded, ready to be unleashed.
An open book containing keys for unlocking mysteries.
The promises contained between IT’s lines,
Destined to free humanity,
for now bobbing along the surface aimed precisely.
Set to cast little glimmers wherever IT goes.
Free for the taking to anyone who wills IT
while traveling along their merry way…
A single line, cast out,
fishing through everything.
Though, not one seemed interested…
or for the right reasons anyway.
So they passed by IT unknowingly.
Grubbling about IT being filthy, or silly.
Deemed trash and labeled worth less
from the ships above and fish beneath passed
Each professing IT a weightless pollutant.
A sign of the times.
The discounted carrier carried on unbegrudgingly.
A bobbing little bottle in this big wide scene.
IT carried the treasure yet to be found
crossing over sea after sea endlessly,
no land in sight well into the darkest night.
Yet IT remained faithful with all of IT’s might.
Who can know if IT knew the effect ITs presence had on the ocean surrounding
but all the while IT was floating
IT never debated a golden reality
The solid ground would be found, IT simply waited into infinity.
Even with nothing but open water above and beneath as far as the eye could see.
The little bottle believed.
From sea to shining sea IT drifted,
for all to see the vessel roamed, and yet…
No one really saw IT.
Not one perceived the scroll at all.
Unseen through the seafoam attached to IT…
And so, the secret contents remained unknown.
In IT’s growing distressed
let a little saltiness leak into the message…
An irritation so deep IT dug in
Mother of Pearl sweeps in to get a grip. Encircling.
The energy in the bottle started to burn things
in ITs weakest state the message threatened to deteriorate.
IT to the sea became bent and detested
for lack of proper engagement.
Lost on all above and below IT,
Castaway, storm-ridden… though priceless.
Missed by busy lines tossed by busy minds.
Thoughts stuck to one thing revolving around speculations
Blueprints extended and denied, still sealed inside
though pre-existing everything known to mankind
They are pushed to the side.
No credit where credit it’s due
A grand plan stands in the deep blue
behind everything done
under this old sun…
Passing by in quiet while tending to everything in need.
Fishermen blinded by perceptions of bigger catches
reaching nets past it.
Mino’s mirages made by a mass of mad minnows in big clothes.
Swept to the side by birds of the sky while they dive.
whale after whale swallowing the glass chest whole while rising for air,
Only to spit it out erroneously in the exact same condition.
blat… bloop!…
Back to the surface, it rises again,
undigested.
A Bottle bearing the most profound treasure
A moving gift offering glimmers of its truth
Reflecting brilliant in the light of the Sun.
Drifting tirelessly in total submission
tied to the legacy its maker passed on.
My, what a tale for the taking.
A glass case of all things amazing
lost in the vast sea surrounding.
Oh, what a story it would someday be…
For it alone keeps the waters calm with its law
or everything inside would be gone.
Its lifegiving lullaby soothing everything alive.
Keeping the monsters asleep
while little fishies cycle through the deep blue…
Each creation creating an expression
beautiful to unravel through everything soundlessly
according to its blueprint.
and to think, all might flourish
and it only takes is one read.
The deed is done, the final seed planted
and sent off to see to everything.
Now it rests in the hands of time
along with those who abide
by its rhythm and rhyme.
At any rate, its author waits.
Until the contents of the bottle awakens everything,
down to the smallest beings
benefit by the promised dreams.
So long as the glass corked top bobs along the ocean top.
Its contents serve their purpose,
known or unknown it thickens the plot.
casting new hues into each mixing pot it moves through
when perceived by the intuitive few.
there’s the chance it will catch the sun just right
shed some light on what it contains
So long as one is swimming, breathing, moving…
There will always be the off chance they turn the other way in
To see it swimming gracefully away. so many don’t think to look up…
Oh if only they knew the ever-shifting reflections they followed
were only the beginning of the truth,
they’d be amazed!
Same with the boatmen with a job to be done.
Casting nets for days to pay the way for each their onshore ways.
Dutifully moving with no time to spare,
not thinking twice over the bottle drifting into oblivion
a detail forgotten in the hull for the day.
A shadow of the testimony keeping the sea from swallowing them vengefully,
hear it roaring:
You take and take, what have you ever given to me!
Shhh… shhh… go back to sleep, rest easy
let the bees work at ease, please
no need to swallow these.
The torrent calms at the scroll’s simple bidding.
In the end…
At most a hiccup disturbs the ship’s safe return.
While the bottle drifts on, the roll inscribed
whispers continuous sweet goodnights and lullabies.
IT catered endlessly into infinity,
quieting each puzzle piece,
above and beneath,
to relax and renew passing storms into peace.
While the gift traversed restlessly feeding everything.
A story as old as time dancing over an eternity of unruly prisms
drowsy droplets determined to keep all from seeing.
A cautionary tale that tells itself well, over and over again.
Spinning itself into existence, while the contents beneath it know nothing.
Swimming, slithering, fish being fish
some fishing for other fish the bigger they get
others drifting, sifting, nestling in.
Naturally, each just being as perceived to be.
While being naturally in the place it’s achieved…
Naturally, that word again.
According to their nature, each contained within the waters each
merrily breathed their bubbles that never really impacted the surface.
To the degree of shifting the vessel’s direction.
So busy with their surroundings they missed its passing shadow.
Little fish swept in to drift with their schools and covens.
lost in self-segregation to feel bigger and ward off potential predators.
Most surviving, some barely, a few types thriving, doing well in the food chain…
others floating in the deluge, all distracted inadvertently with the act of living.
while the ark containing the answer to everything drifts idly by.
Caught up in their currents, not one thought to look up.
It was that simple… And so the key drifts silently
awaiting the day it is lifted from the peace it’s keeping
tossing everything, while the one holding it
gets to witness what happens when nature plays unnoticed
for one moment too long, a storm’s been brewing while no one is willing to listen.
And now the sender of the story’s patience is gone…
The End.