Thank You

He held the bottle in his hand, an old blue glass ornate one he had purchased at an estate sale long ago.
It had adorned the shelf for 3 years now. Sitting still by the window where the canyon presented in all of its bloomed glory this day. In the setting sun, the light would catch the glass and throw a blue glow into the main room of the cabin.

It was his intention to pen a love note to his lady, to tell her the things he could not say out loud to her as they were wrapped in each other's embraces.

he wrote:

Dearest friend, thank you for being with me on this journey. Thank you for knowing, the fierce knowing that we are a gift to be slowly opened and experienced as we move together down the slope of the mountainside, as we meander downhill, effortlessly. Thank you for allowing growth for yourself, for backing off when needed and for moving deeply inside when it is right. 
Simply and fully.....thank you.

He kissed the page, pretending it was her lips, and then rolled it tightly so it would fit into the bottle. He placed the cork stopper in, sealing the words and love within the vibrant vessel of delivery. As he turned and began walking out the door to find a place to hide it where she would surely discover it, he stopped.

Again he turned, smiled, walked to the shelf, viewed the canyon, and sighed as he placed the bottle back to its resting place. This note was to himself, from himself, for himself. For his eyes, his heart, him.... only him.