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Bottled Prayers


Bottled Prayers

 

~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~

 

When I was just a little lad, I strolled down to the creek,

I wrote some simple questions down to answers I would seek.

I stuffed them in a bottle, then just sent them on their way,

hoped the note reached up to God so He'd answer, right away.

 

"Why has Grandma been so sick, and her cookies, she can't make?

Who will do the work she does, how will her biscuits bake,

if no one's there who gives a care, at least a little bit?

When winter's nipping at my toes, how will she sew and knit?


 

Why did Jimmy's mommy have to join you in the sky?

Would you take me too if you knew that I made someone cry?

And why does daddy jump in bed as soon as he gets home?

Please tell me why, you in the sky, I always feel alone?"

 

I had so many questions, but these few would have to do.

I got on my bike, rode it home, still feeling sad and blue.

Next morning I woke up early, as I'd always done before.

Went to the creek to take a peek — no bottle on the shore.


 

While miles away, my bottled note, a preacher man had found;

my heartfelt floating letter had washed up on fertile ground.

He set about to figure out the answers he would note,

wrote them down the night before, once again set it afloat.


 

While skipping rocks in soggy socks, it floated back to me,

my heart just leapt, I skipped in step, His answers I would see.

It drifted for a moment, then came rushing toward the shore,

it washed up in front of me where I'd stood the day before.


 

Of trembling hands, I took command, then quickly popped the top.

And sure enough, though it was tough, I read and couldn't stop

He'd written just one answer to all questions I had asked,

when I was through I finally knew His love would always last.


 

"My son, don't ever worry about questions you might have,

for in my Word my voice is heard, a gentle soothing salve.

Send your burdens to me in prayer, I'll answer right away,

and when in doubt, don't spell it out, get on your knees and pray."

 

I took that note on which He wrote and kept it all these years,

when I have doubt, I take it out, it soothes my pain and tears.

So if you have some questions and need your voice be heard,

get on your knees and just believe... there's power in His word.


Message in a bottle photo mailslota1_zpsc5a96e5b.gif

 

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Dean Kuch

Dean Kuch, born Harold Dean Cook II, is 54 years old and lives in a rural farming community. Born to Lena and Harold Cook, Mr. Kuch has two younger brothers. He is married to his wife Keresna for a total of twenty years now and has two teenage children. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am always grappling with good and evil, and my writing reflects that. Stephen King, Robert Bloch, Ray Bradbury, George RR Martin, and the poetry of Edgar Allen Poe, have been some of my biggest influences. These men gave me inspiration, terrified me, and made me want to do the same to others. Inspire...and terrify. Oh, and never mind those rustling sounds just outside your window. I'm sure it's probably nuthin'...

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