A Wish

From With Real Toads–When Good Wishes Go Bad. Wednesday prompt.

 

Round, white stones

perfect and alone.

How odd, the shapes curved by the ocean.

I found you in a sea.

I had been drifting on a makeshift raft.

Counting constellations I couldn’t name.

I caressed your smooth unending circumference,

turning and turning you.

Stone.  Open,

I wished.

 

Tell me the answers and the points

of navigation in the charts. Direct

me skyward, seaward–I don’t care.

Millenniums inside your corrosion,

only a small life in mine.

A little life I solidify, erode, smooth

into the circumference of a cold moon.

Show me, love, the moon–her bone

pulling me along the tide, tell me

-where is it I am supposed to go?

Stone. Open,

I wished.

 

I am turning and turning myself

and finding I have no edges, no borders.

Unframed with no key, a solitaire sphere in orbit

among grains of sand-each one a story.

I turn outside myself in these pieces

of the universe; we are such stuff

the stars are made of.

I plunk you back into the water-

you and I-

the rhythm of direction is a circle

leading us back into ourselves.

 

 

image credit HERE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Save