My Little Fleet

Ecclesiates 11:1-5 says,

"Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days.  Give portions to seven, and also to eight; for thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the earth.  If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon the earth: and if the tree fall toward the south, or toward the north, in the place where the tree falleth, there it shall be.  He that observeth the wind shall not sow; and he that regardeth the clouds shall not reap.  As thou knowest not what is the way of the spirit, nor how the bones do grow in the womb of her that is with child: even so thou knowest not the works of God who maketh all."

All the pages are worn and the binding's cracked

If I close my eyes I still see my notes on the sides

And if I tore the pages to measure and fold each line

I could send out my own little fleet...of paper boats

I could release them 

into the cold streams

from these melting snows to

their own raging seas

You say they'd find their way back....they'd somehow return to me. 

But, then I've imagined my little ships in grave danger 

Acts of piracy...adrift by winds somewhere uncharted...or shipwrecked

And in the images of the debris from waters assailing 

Lost is my pleasant daydream

Yes, I could release them

into the cold streams

from these melting snows to 

their own raging seas

But, if I hold on to them....I could tug them down the shore of my faith

"Cast them out, send them to seven or eight", you say

"The truth they carry is worth their weight...

"In gold?" I ask..."more, for what they hold."

Lord, EMBOLDEN me.

I want to release these paper boats

into the cold streams

from these melting snows to 

their own raging seas

Because you promise me a mystery....you'll always bring the truth right back...

Someday, when I'm in need, I'll find a paper boat floating back to me.