Yea Plunge

Yea Plunge

Please imagine, if you can,
the fingertips of “that I am”

letting go of, with a flick,
sending sailing through the tick,

a bottle spinning in the air,
twirling slowly, in a prayer.

Flipped on purpose from His hand
to the river through the land,

where it skips across the water—
found the current,
                      and then fought her,

bobbing roughly on the surface
with a purposeless purpose.

Where it’s going, I don’t know,
it’s just following the flow.

And it travels all alone
‘til you find it, in this Poem.

And within, God put a letter,
at least I hope, to make me better—-

What it shows us words can’t tell you,
maybe stories from the bayou,

of the acts, of that Giver—
tossed that bottle in that river—


Now returning to the vision,
let me tell of my decision.

Please imagine if you dare,
bottle spinning in mid-air.

And please refrain from any laughter,
as you learn—
                                I jumped in after . . . .




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This poem is from "Bottle in the River" 
                     about a Poet's journey down a river, chasing a bottle
                     tossed by the fingertips of "that I am."
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Written within the parameters of the theory of "Multivalence"