Bottles of Glass

Just old bottles—green, empty and clinking

But made by investment of hope

Into brave and glorious fleets

Sparkling vessels on oceans of silver

We seal up our thoughts like a crew hand selected

And cast them away with the tide

To cross the sea of separation

The space between one and another

We will see upon whose shore they wash

We will see the lands they discover

If indeed there are others out there—somewhere

Or if the world is just a big empty place

And if they should lose course or never alight

On that legendary land called ‘another’

At least the sea... she will know who we were

And that we, at one time, were here