Dear Bottle Finder,
please, if you could be so kind,
I need a favor.
There is a cricket farm,
which sits just beyond the red trees and mist,
and if you push aside the reeds with either hand,
you will see a grove of eucalyptus tossing in the wind.
Nestled there is a home, a shack to many,
where a family with smiles on their faces, lives within.
Poor beyond standards, they met me one day at their doorway,
barefoot and with dust on their tanned feet while their tender souls displayed and shown like gold.
I was amazed and humbled by their inward wealth as God’s glory rang throughout their house, bouncing off the dirt floors, whistling through the timbers.
I perked up when I saw their daughter,
a beauty like no other,
coming from the river,
passing row upon row of shadows,
carrying her load of pots and pans.
Now, she wore a blanket of muted jade, which graced her body.
The shape of her legs supported this beauty as I noticed the highlights of her skin as she walked into the room.
Vivid with punch, and muted by finesse was her skin,
having been drenched from the sun just enough,
as her blush filled the room with a warm glow.
The same as rose petals mixed with the oil of lavender.
Water overflowing a rainbow gave life and color to her lips,
quivering the adobe around my feet, and a straight back supported proud breasts, which pointed at me.
Clay has been used by ‘The Master Artist,’ to build this work of art which stood before me.
I looked in disbelief,
nearly falling backwards, as I saw her hands move from her face.
Eyes light blue, favoring turquoise and bright with light, glanced my way.
There was silence for a good while as we looked at one another.
Then she spoke. Her words and actions, I remember to this day.
“What’s up? So. Whatcha want?” As she pulled an invisible string through her upper lip and asked me to dance.
“Why of course! Anything, for a woman with such beauty.”
Without warning,
a rumbling in the earth produced a flood that picked me up and carried me to another valley.
I miss her.
What keeps me going is her smile, which I see each time I breathe. For centered way down in my soul is hers, attached to mine.
So, if you should see this woman with such a kind soul, wearing an invisible string, please tell her,
“We have a dance, which we never quite finished,” and if it is God’s will,
I will find my way back to this beauty as I put this note in a bottle,
and place it in the ocean of life, overflowing into heaven… Thank you, W.H. *.*
